A few of my Favourite Things
by MajorSam
Summary: Castle and Beckett explore a few of their favourite things.
1. Books

**A/N:** Welcome to my first ever Castle fic! I swore up and down that my first Caskett story would NOT be smut, and in fact this story started out smutless but then… I mean… all the Season 5 stuff started coming out and Beckett's HAIR and then the HAMPTONS and the promo and did I mention her hair? Yes it's yet ANOTHER Hampton's fic and probably full of cliches but I thought this could be a fun, if possibly over the top little warm-up to the grand and exciting new world of fanfic opportunities that Castle has presented me. I hope you enjoy I have no Castle beta and this was written VERY quickly so all mistakes are my own! DEFINITELY M rated.

Disclaimer: These characters belong to a God among men, not I. That God being Andrew Marlowe.

* * *

**A few of my Favourite Things**

**By MajorSam**

* * *

"Beckett, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

The detective bit her lip, unable to contain a smirking grin.

"What are you talking about, Castle?"

He chanced a look to the side, keeping his peripherals on the road in front of him. He immediately regretted it. Her long hair was whipping wildly in the wind, loose and free. Even half covered by a huge pair of sunglasses her face was glowing, and not just from the bright sun. Her body was relaxed, completely at ease on the soft leather seat. The neck of her white dress was halter shaped, leaving her shoulders and arms bare to the sun. He couldn't see it now but the writer knew the dress left her back mostly bare, the absence of a bra glaringly obvious and the fabric of the halter neck cascading down her back in a wispy tendril that teased and tortured him. He couldn't believe his eyes when he'd picked her up.

"What," she'd shrugged. "We're going to a beach house aren't we?"

And oh did he have plans for her at said beach house. There was the house, the pool and the Jacuzzi… and she didn't yet know about his boat. But that was for another day.

Castle knew that Beckett liked speed, and there was nothing quite like racing down an empty freeway in an open Ferrari. More than that though, he'd like to think that her tranquility stemmed partly from him as well. The last few weeks, while fraught with drama, had been some of the best weeks of his life. It was tough keeping everything bottled down at the precinct, especially when Kate was in any amount of danger, but they'd managed. And when they finally got to be alone, together… it was everything he could have dreamed of and more. He'd never felt anything close to the connection he had with her, emotionally, spiritually, or physically. Oh yeah, physically. He prided himself in his self-control, his ability to focus on his partner, draw things out, but when he was near her all bets were off. They'd had nights that were slow and passionate, learning each other to the best of their ability but they'd also had more than a few instances where they didn't make it past the door. Or the couch. Or the desk. They had a lot of years to make up for.

Just thinking about some of their more wild nights made him shift in his seat, thankful for the cool wind whipping his hot face. The shift, however, sharply reminded him of why he'd asked what the hell she was doing.

Her hand was on his leg. And by on his leg, he meant on his thigh. His very upper, inner, thigh. A long, slim finger was brushing even further up. He blinked several times, eyes back on the road, trying not to surrender to the haze of want that always clouded his vision when she was touching him.

"Beckett…" he warned in a low voice.

"Hmmm?" Another finger started a quest upwards.

He sent her a quick glare. Sunglasses stared back at him, perfectly sculpted eyebrows raised innocently above the rim. Her face was a mask of calm while her hand boldly moved up to palm against his jeans. He jumped, his jaw clenched tightly to contain a squeak. His head whipped back to the road, unable to look at her anymore. He could practically sense the sly grin that graced her lips. She moved her hand, a firm stroke.

"Ok, seriously Kate, if you want to get to the Hamptons alive you need to stop. Right now."

"But wouldn't it be such a nice way to go, Rick?" she said in a deep voice.

Oh god, no! She said his name! She knew what that did to him. She was playing dirty and oh did he like it.

"If you're going to kill me this weekend, Beckett, can't you at least wait until we get there? I really want to show it to you…"

Her hand stilled and he inhaled a deep breath. They both knew going to the Hamptons together was a big thing. He'd wanted to take her to his private sanctuary, away from the chaos of the city, since about two days after he'd met her. Kate knew she'd yearned to go for more years than he probably realized. It was so much more significant than just "going away for the weekend."

Her hand started up again and he groaned, the sound lost in the purr of the engine and the whistling of the wind.

"You're giving me permission to kill you, Castle?"

"You do it nearly every day as it is."

"Yeah, but now you're giving me express permission to actively seek out that goal? So long as we make it to the house?"

"Well if I had to choose where I wanted to die, it would be in your arms."

She stilled again. Next thing he knew she was leaning towards him and laying a strong kiss to his jaw, his neck, before resting her cheek softly against his.

"Only if I went with you," she said quietly into his ear.

His heart stuttered. Only if she went with him? She wouldn't want to keep going without him. Oh wow. She still hadn't said "I love you," but everything about that statement was layered with it. It was enough. For now.

She pulled back from him and abruptly laughed.

"Way too serious a subject matter, Castle. Come on, I thought you were whisking me away for a weekend of fun and frolic?"

He happily took her opening to move away from unspoken words and thoughts of mutual demise.

"Oh, Detective, there will be lots of frolic, don't you fret."

"I'm gonna hold you to that."

"I look very forward to you holding things."

He glanced over at her and saw her biting her bottom lip between her teeth, smiling, and couldn't help but smile back. He'd always been fond of smiling but in the last few weeks he found he couldn't stop. What was more incredible though was how much she smiled. Because of him. God. She was so beautiful when she smiled. He would work every day for the rest of his life to see her smiling.

"Eyes on the road, Castle," she said, her voice smug. He hadn't realized he'd been staring dopily at her. He did that a lot. His head sprang back forward, looking at the road with exaggerated intent. She laughed, and the sound vibrated through his entire body. Her hot hand was suddenly on him again.

"Beckett!"

She laughed again.

The second they were inside the door he dropped their bags, grabbed her waist, and pushed her back against the door.

"Oh my god, Kate," he moaned, taking her lips in a furious kiss. Her mouth immediately opened, her wet tongue lunging out to meet his, her arms wrapping around his shoulders to bring him closer. She tasted like coffee, and wind, and Kate.

"I seriously thought that cop was going to pull us over!" she laughed.

"No cops this weekend," Castle decreed. "Only one smokin' hot detective."

His right hand slid down her side to cup her back side, gripping firmly and hoisting her up, moving his leg between hers. Or trying to. He growled and pulled back, glaring angrily down at her full length summer dress. It was gorgeous, and flowy, and teased at the slim curves underneath, but it also completely got in the way of his leg.

"Beckett," he growled again, and she laughed. Laughed at him!

"Slow down there, big boy."

He looked up at her, incredulous. She'd gotten rid of her sunglasses at some point, and her eyes were huge, green, beautiful… and amused.

"Don't want to slow down," he muttered, leaning forward and taking her mouth again. She tried to say something but it was muffled against his lips. He could feel her shoulders slump as she gave into the kiss, her body melting into his like it was meant to be there. He couldn't fit his legs to hers so he used his hands instead. The material of her dress was incredibly soft, thin, he could practically feel her skin through it, every curve and dip and angle of her ribs. His hands stroked up and down her sides, her waist so slim he could touch her back while his thumbs wrapped around to stroke her stomach. She made a sound against him and leaned further back into the door for support. One of his hands skimmed upwards across her shoulder blades to bury itself in her luscious hair, wild and tangled from the drive. He felt her gentle hand at his jaw, one of her favourite places. His heart rate decelerated a bit as the kiss evolved from furious to slow and deep. He was completely wound up from her fiendish hand, which had not relented in the car, but she had a way of calming him, grounding him, gently bending him towards the pace and pressure that she wanted.

Kate Beckett had come to the Hamptons with him. Castle would do whatever she wanted, no matter the strain. She could lead him across the beach and into the ocean to never come back, and he'd happily drown with her. Thankfully she currently seemed content to just drown him with kisses. A while later, how long exactly he didn't know, they'd slowed to the point that their lips were barely brushing, simply breathing in each other's air. He was sharing breath with Kate Beckett. In his house in the Hamptons. He let out a shaky sigh and leaned forward, gathering her in his arms and resting his chin on her head. She was wearing sandals of all things today, cute little white things that showed her purple painted toes (Oh how he'd teased her) but also creating an unusual height difference that he secretly loved. She fit against him so perfectly like this, as though they were made for each other, her head burrowing into his neck and resting on his broad shoulder.

"Time for a tour?" she finally asked in a quiet voice, not wanting to break the peace of the moment.

"Sure," he nodded, but neither of them moved. He felt her lips on his neck, corners turned up in a smile. She pulled back from him, their eyes meeting.

"Come on, Castle," she said in the tone of voice she always used when she thought he was being overly girly. A mixture of wry amusement, exasperation, and amazement, like she was feeling just as mushy as him, but still refused to let him know. He didn't care though. He knew. He also knew that she knew how excited he was to finally have her with him, so he decided to push his luck and extend his hand to her. She rolled her eyes but took it, squeezing ever so lightly as he started to pull her down a hallway.

"We have to go to my favourite place first," he declared, excitement lacing his voice.

"So help me if you take me straight to the bedroom…"

"Why Detective!" he turned to her, still walking. "Get your mind out of the gutter."

She raised an eyebrow, still disbelieving.

"You'll understand very soon, my dear," he said loftily.

They arrived at a set of tall, double doors, pure white, with elegant handles. Castle let go of her hand, grasping the handles of both doors with exaggerated grandeur before pulling them down and pushing the doors forward.

"Oh, Castle…" Kate breathed stepping into the room.

A library.

"Told you so," he said. She turned to him, her heart thudding at the sight of his wide, exuberant face, beaming with pride.

"This is amazing," she admitted as her highly trained eyes swept over the vast room, taking in every detail.

"You surely didn't think the books at my loft were all I had?"

"No, of course not, but I didn't expect this!"

Bookshelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling. The only wall space not covered in books was the wall opposite them, where the shelves gave way to a massive window which pushed outwards, a plush looking window seat resting at the bottom. She could see the ocean in the distance, the sun's reflection so strong it lit the entire room until it almost glowed. A sitting area stood to their left consisting of a comfortable couch and two loveseats surrounding a low coffee table. The center of the room was dominated by an impressive oak desk the size of a dining table. A few books, papers and pens were scattered across its dark surface, a stark natural contrast to the sleek, modern white of the room around it. It was surreal.

Castle watched her wander further in, her step light, as if she didn't want to disturb the solemnity of such a place. He let the doors close behind him before leaning back and observing her, one of the most important people in his life, in his favourite place in the world. She stopped in front of one of the shelves, her hand raising as if to touch one but pausing. Her mouth opened slightly, her teeth coming out to claim her bottom lip. The books were alphabetized and sorted by category. She wondered if that was Castle's doing, or Alexis.

"I can't believe you have a section of classic Russian literature," she observed.

"My interests are more varied than just mystery and crime novels, you know."

"I know, I'm just… impressed, at your collection."

She avoided looking at him, sure he must be preening.

Her hand continued its path until her fingers brushed the spine of a book, he didn't know which one. A shiver trickled down his back as if she were actually touching him. Her teeth released her lip but her mouth stayed slightly parted as she perused the titles, her fingers sweeping over the books as she walked a few steps to the side. Castle's own jaw was open, awed, not quite able to comprehend the sight of her. Her face was rapt, completely engrossed in what she was seeing, her love for words, for books, pouring out of her. It was possibly the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, the way her love rivaled his own, the way she understood what books could mean to someone. She may not have the ability to write them like he did, but she sure knew how to appreciate them.

The light from the window accentuated the lighter streaks in her hair and the green in her eyes. Combined with the white of her long dress she looked like an angel. His angel. He knew Beckett's eyes would probably roll out of her head if she knew what he was thinking, but he couldn't help it. He still woke up half the time wondering if he'd dreamed the last few weeks. A sudden need to touch her, make sure she was real, took over him and his feet started moving of their own accord. She glanced briefly at him as he approached but her eyes immediately pulled away, riveted by the offerings in the shelves before her. She pulled out a thick volume, its cover a dark green, and flipped it open. When he was at her side he stopped, suddenly not wanting to touch her after all in fear of breaking the spell she was being held in. After a few minutes of silence she broke it for him.

"Castle, I…"

She finally looked at him, holding his eyes in her wide gaze

"It even smells like books in here," she said, her voice wondering.

"One of my favourite smells," he grinned. The smell of ancient pages, the words of their ancestors juxtaposed with the fresh smell of new pages, awaiting discovery. It was intoxicating.

"Mine too," she said softly.

He couldn't stand it anymore. He reached out and cupped her cheek, bending down to press his lips against hers. He intended the kiss to be soft, reverent, but her free arm grabbed his bicep hard and her mouth opened to his. Never one to decline her invitation he wrapped his other arm around her waist as their tongues met. She made a little noise and he seized her bottom lip between his, sucking on the area she'd been biting earlier. Next thing he knew she was guiding him forward as she turned, allowing him to push her against the bookshelf. The smell of the books united with the sweet smell of her and suddenly his jeans were too tight and his shirt was too hot. He pressed her against the shelves, knowing she wouldn't mind the sharp jut of books in her back. It had always seemed to turn her on even more, he'd observed, which of course drove him wild in return. He drew a hand up her side, leaning it against a book beside her head for support, but the book was thinner than he'd anticipated and it slid further into the shelf. He stumbled forward, hips grinding into hers. She moaned and the book she'd been holding slid out of limp fingers, crashing to the floor with a heavy thud.

The sound knocked both of them out of their trance and released the fires that had been burning since they'd started their drive so many hours ago.

"Kate," he groaned, rolling his hips again and trying to kiss her harder, deeper. She gave a muffled moan in response, sneaking her hands between their bodies to grasp the edge of his shirt, fumbling with the top button. His hands moved down her waist, over the smooth curve of her backside to grip her thighs tightly, picking her up like she weighed nothing. Her legs swiftly wrapped around him, a practiced move made awkward by her dress as he began to walk backwards, picturing the library in his mind and hoping he was heading where he thought he was. After several stumbles and a moment where he was sure they were going to topple to the ground, he felt the solid hardwood of the desk at his back. He swung them around and hoisted her onto it.

"Tour, Castle," she gasped as his hands moved to her ankles, now within reaching distance.

"What about it?" he mumbled against her lips.

"Shouldn't we…?" she gasped against his lips as she worked the last button of his shirt free.

"We have all weekend," he said hurriedly, his hands finally working under the hem of her dress and encountering the sinfully smooth skin of her calves.

Any further queries were cut short when he moved from her lips to her neck, sucking fervently against her throbbing pulse. She forced his hands from her dress, much to his dismay, so that she could push his shirt off. Once it was gone she set to work on his belt and jeans. His hands quickly reclaimed their spot on her skin, sliding further and further upwards until he unexpectedly went still as a statue.

"Beckett," he choked.

"What is it?" she slurred, having reclaimed his lips. He pulled away and glared at her.

"Kate Beckett, are you trying to _destroy_ me?"

She frowned up at him through hazy eyes, her lashes dark and thick.

"You're not wearing any underwear," he hissed.

Her eyes flickered in understanding, growing two shades darker and five shades more evil.

"Wow, Castle, you figured that out? You sure you're not a trained detective like me?"

"This is not funny, Beckett," he ground out. "The whole bra thing was bad enough but if I'd known you were… I mean…"

"Well you know now," she said in a low voice, scooting forward on the desk so their hips touched. She pressed herself against him and then her tongue was on his skin, licking up his neck until her lips were at his ear, sucking the lobe into her mouth. "So what are you gonna do about it?" she whispered.

This woman was seriously going to be the death of him.

He growled and took hold of her hips, pushing her back with such force that she slid halfway across the desk, laughing as books and papers cascaded to the ground. His jeans were already halfway down his legs thanks to her clever fingers and they were off in a second, his boxers quickly following. His sandals had been lost a while ago. He climbed onto the desk, immensely thankful for its sturdiness as he moved towards where she was now kneeling, knees bent in front of her, resting on her legs. Her eyes provoked him, her body taunted him, her husky voice drove him mad with need. How had he survived so long by her side, unable to do this? He rose up on his knees and grabbed her, kissing her with a harsh passion, addicted to her taste. She rose up to meet him chest to chest, meeting his passion with a fierceness of her own. He could feel every curve and plane of her body beneath the thin dress but he wanted more. His hands found the bottom of her dress and forced it upwards, her body having to twist and bend to accommodate his rough demand until finally he lifted it off of her raised arms and threw it to the side.

He held onto her waist and leaned back, holding her in place. She could easily throw him off but she didn't want to. She let him look at her, gaze at her, drink in the sight of her wavy hair tumbling down her bare shoulders, brushing the tops of her breasts, her skin shimmering in the light. His grand book cases provided the backdrop for the picture, straight out of a fantasy.

"Kate," he said, his voice catching in his throat. He swallowed thickly. Her lustful gaze softened and she raised a hand to his cheek, stroking it gently. She leaned forward and kissed him, slow and sweet, for just a moment.

"Right back at ya," she murmured. Then her kisses were back to the strong, challenging kisses he knew and loved. He wanted to touch her, kiss every inch of her but his mind was slipping with every passing second and he knew this was not the time for foreplay. Their whole day so far had provided that. Just in case he slipped a hand down between her legs. She moaned against him, her body shaking lightly as his fingers grazed through the silky wetness he encountered. Definitely no foreplay required. He moved a hand to her shoulder to push her down but she resisted, her own hands rising up to strike at his shoulders with lighting speed. He fell backwards and stared in awe as she moved to straddle him, grinning down at him like a feral cat looking at a meal. He had never felt so happy to be objectified. She splayed one hand on his chest for balance while the other grasped between his legs, air leaving his lungs in a rush. Her grin slipped into a mask of determined concentration as she rose up and without preamble sunk down onto him. Completely. His eyes flew wide and his body stilled, unable to process the perfect feeling of being surrounded by her. When reality returned he realized she wasn't breathing either, her eyes closed and her face screwed up in the most beautiful, blissful way.

When she opened her eyes his were there, waiting for her. They locked and didn't sway as she started to move. She slid off him just a fraction before sinking down again, stretching herself, getting used to his size because every single time they did this it felt like the first, except better. Better every single time. Within moments they were seamlessly in sync, partners in every aspect of their lives. She would pull off of him almost completely before slamming down, squeezing her inner muscles right at the end as he rotated his hips in this way that was just way too good. The quiet serenity of the room grew full with their sighs and moans, whispered encouragement. They could get loud, really loud, but though their movements were powerful they unconsciously didn't want to break the peace of the library _too_ badly.

Castle's hands, never able to stay idle for long, began to search, to map the geography of her skin inch by inch, stroking and pinching and caressing. Both her hands were on his chest, her nails scratching lightly as she felt heat begin to radiate from him, a sheen of sweat covering the tan skin of his chest. He worshipped her breasts, small but perfect in his large hands until his mouth burned with the desire to taste. Without warning he planted his feet on the table and drove himself upwards, pushing even deeper into her as he sat up. Kate cried out as her arms whipped around his shoulders in surprise, hanging on as the new angle winded her. He gave her no time to recover, bending her backwards until her chest was bared to him and his lips latched onto a dark, tight nipple.

"Oh god," she breathed as he rolled it between his lips and tongue, scraping it with his teeth. Her fingers wound through his hair, holding him to her as she started to move again, up and down, cradled between his legs. His hands and lips were everywhere, tasting and touching while her hands clutched at him, felt the play of muscles beneath his broad shoulders, across his back, at his hips. He knew she was getting close, her whispered words and half-choked breaths rising higher in pitch and volume. He canted his hips forward and leaned against her, crushing her to him, grinding against her most sensitive bundle of nerves. Her body jerked and she fell backwards, his weight falling on top of her as she slammed into the table, a little harder than he'd intended but she didn't say a word. The push and pull of power in the bedroom was a constant, heady battle, one he was so thankful she let him fight. Her legs wrapped around him and she dug her heels into the small of his back, goading him on.

Castle's hands moved to frame her face, pushing her hair out of the way so he wouldn't slip on the silky strands. But just as he thought he finally had a good grip on the dark wood of the table his sweaty palms gave way. He fell forward at an odd angle, mouth falling open to apologize, but his breath left him when Kate let out a sound that couldn't be called anything but a squeal. A lusty, pleasure soaked, unabashed squeal. He looked down at her in awe, waiting for her to blush, or look away, or something, but she only gazed up at him with dark, hooded eyes and unbridled passion, breathing heavily. He wanted to say something, something that would express how incredible she was, but he found himself at a complete loss for words. Instead he slowly pulled out of her, almost all the way, before thrusting heavily back in, attempting to replicate his accidental move. He gathered it worked as her eyes rolled back in her head and her nails dug into his shoulders, her mouth opening as her breath rushed out of her.

Her perfect lips moved ever so slightly, shaping the breath into a faint yet guttural, "Rick…"

Any semblance of control fled at the sound of his name from her lips. He willed his grip on the table to stay and began to move with purpose, wanting, needing, to hear his name again, to imbed it so deeply in her mind that she'd never utter another man's name again. Her cries ratcheted up, as did his, the sound barrier of the room completely smashed. Bursts of pleasure started crawling up his spine and he knew the end was near. He pounded into her, not caring that his knees would probably be battered and bruised after this. Kate groaned out his name again and he faltered in his rhythm, a hand seeking the place where they were joined, inexorably finding the spot where she needed him the most. He stroked her firmly and within moments felt her fall, her muscles suddenly squeezing him in the most delicious way possible, her back arching and his name breaking from her lips in a lurid exclamation. He followed her down, chanting her name like a prayer, his mind going blank as ecstasy took over his world.

Several minutes later he realized he was lying on top of her, pinning her to the table.

"Oh, crap, sorry…" he mumbled as he forced his weak body off of her, noting her noise of disappointment when he left her body before falling to her side. Thank god the desk was huge. She turned and curled her body towards him, insinuating a long, slender leg between his.

"Hey," she said, blinking tiredly, completely satiated.

"Hey," he grinned.

She tucked both of her lips into her mouth in an impish smile before stretching her neck to kiss him gently.

"That was…"

"I know," he agreed.

"I think this might be my new favourite house."

"You haven't even seen the rest of it!"

"Doesn't matter," she shook her head. "I'd be happy to just stay in this room for the whole weekend."

His grin turned lascivious. "That could be arranged."

She giggled, (Yes, he could make Kate Beckett giggle) and kissed him again. He wanted to call up Guinness book of records and inform them that there was a new happiest man alive. Beckett might think that a touch dramatic though. Ah well.

Her face suddenly clouded over, her eyebrows dipping down.

"What is it?" he was suddenly buzzing with concerned energy, as he always did when she wasn't happy.

"Your books!"

"What about them?"

"There were books on the desk… we pushed them off."

"So?"

"So what if we ruined them?"

He loved that she was so concerned over a book, like a torn page in a book was as bad as a lost limb on a person.

"So what if we did? I'll replace them."

"Castle," she chided turning away from him and sliding on her stomach to the edge of the desk. He was momentarily stunned by being suddenly faced with the expanse of her bare back, the swell of her delectable ass and the endless, endless length of her legs. He turned onto his side; resting his head on his hand while he watched the stretch of skin over muscle as she carefully leaned over the edge and grabbed a book.

"What's this?" she asked, bringing it up and lying down on her back to show him,

His heart skipped a beat. Of course she would find that one first.

The cover was well worn leather, simple and black, with no inscription on the front to indicate what it was.

"That's The Book," he said.

"_The_ Book?" she questioned, fingers hesitating over the cover. He knew the way he said it had made her worry this was something she wasn't supposed to see, something very personal that he wasn't quite ready to share yet. But he softened his face and he reached out to cover her hand with hers and together they opened it.

* * *

_June 6, 2001._

_Alexis loves it here. I couldn't be happier. I think it's everything we both need right now. I already know which room will be the library. We're going to fill it up as fast as possible! But for right now, she wants to check out the beach. I am so with her on that one._

* * *

"Castle… is this a diary?" She looked up at him in astonishment.

"As much as I'm sure that would thrill you, no, this isn't a tome of my innermost wishes and desires."

"Damn. I was already getting excited about telling Lanie."

"Gah, you women!" he shook his head fondly. "Turn to the next page."

* * *

_June 7, 2001_

_I love it here so much! Daddy says we can come here whenever I want and I can play on the beach and in the pretty pool and he's gonna make me pancakes every morning. I wish Mom could come but Daddy says this isn't a place for her. I don't know what that means but at least I have my Daddy. The best Daddy ever!_

* * *

"Oh, Castle…"

"We've always just called it The Book. It's been in this room since the first day I brought Alexis here. We write down any little thought we have, record stories of our adventures, immortalize our silly quotes that usually don't even make sense a few years later."

Kate flipped through a few more pages, laughing out loud at some of the exploits of Castle and his daughter. He knew there was some dark stuff in there, uncensored information about his troubles with Meredith, with Gina, with his writing and the issues of being a single dad with a young daughter. But he wanted Kate to read it, to know it, know everything about him. The thought scared him, yes, he worried every day that she'd realize he was nowhere near good enough for her but he'd made himself a promise. He would give her everything he had, all of him, and let her choose. He loved her enough that if, once she knew his whole story, he wasn't what she wanted, he would let her go, knowing he'd given it his best shot.

She looked up at him again, warmth and happiness and something else shining through her eyes.

"I'm going to read this whole thing, you know," she told him.

"I know."

"But for now I'm going to do something you're going to hate."

He raised an inquisitive eyebrow and she grinned as she flipped through the book, finding the most recent entry. His heart thudded and he schooled his features, watching her frown when she saw the date. July 27, 2010. Exactly two years and one day ago. She looked up at him but he stayed silent. Her eyes drifted back to the page.

* * *

_July 27, 2010_

_I love Katherine Beckett._

* * *

She gasped softly, her fingers covering the words as if she couldn't bear to see them. He waited for her to turn away from him, curl up, hide her nakedness and the vulnerability it revealed. His chest hurt. He'd told her before that he loved her, in the cemetery with her blood on his hands and in her apartment, pleading with her for her life. He'd even said it once or twice in the weeks since they'd been together. He knew more than anyone, however, the power of the printed word, of seeing the words in black ink, staring up at you, undeniable and permanent. And she still hadn't said them back. He waited, body coiled with tension for her to say something, react in any way.

Her fingers stayed on the page, blocking his words, but she didn't move her body, staying open and exposed.

"You were up here with Gina that summer," she said in a calm, even voice, devoid of emotion.

"I was."

He waited for her to continue but she didn't. He took a deep breath and spoke again.

"I was here with Gina but I knew, the whole time, that she wasn't the one I wanted with me."

Kate took in a shaky breath.

"I swore after I wrote that that I wouldn't write another word in that book until you were here with me."

She squeezed her eyes shut and a breath shuddered through her.

"I was going to come with you," she said in a small voice, completely unlike the tough detective he knew.

"You what?" he gasped, his body springing from the table to sit upright, staring down at her, aghast.

She wrapped her arms around the book and laid it on her chest, cradling it like it would protect her.

"Do you remember the day you left for that trip, at the precinct? When we were talking in the hallway..."

His eyes clouded over as he searched his memory.

"You've got to be kidding me," he hissed.

She shook her head, avoiding his gaze.

"You were going to come with me, that very day? You were trying to tell me that you were actually, for real, agreeing to go?"

She nodded, a few bangs slipping across her forehead and shadowing one of her eyes.

"I thought about it for a long time and then suddenly I knew. I broke it off with Tom earlier that day and had this whole speech planned in my head."

"I can't believe this," he moaned, lying down on his stomach and burying his head in his hands.

"Hey, it's ok," she said, a cool hand touching his back and rubbing reassuringly. "I got over it."

"Maybe you did, but god, Kate, all the time we've missed…"

"Don't think of it that way," she said in a firm voice. "Who knows what would have happened if I'd come up then. There's no point dwelling on it because being here with you, now, is everything I could ever ask for."

He moved his head to peek out at her.

"No matter what I thought then I don't think I was actually ready. But now, with those extra years between us… I think now is the right time. For us."

"For us," he repeated. His eyes were so _not_ getting misty.

"You're such a girl, Castle," Kate suddenly laughed. Damn it! How did she always see right through him like that?

"Hey, it's not my fault that I get weak in the knees whenever I look at you. You've got evil powers!"

'Yes, yes, I know, I'm a terrible jedi-witch demon."

"Exactly," he nodded his head with a childishly innocent bob.

"Is there any chance I can use my magic to bewitch you into making me some food? I'm starving."

As if on cue a rumble resounded from her stomach.

"I suppose," he sighed dramatically, sitting up again. He saw her eyes flicker over his chest. "Unless you want me to be the only item on the menu tonight. I go wonderfully with a glass of spicy Shiraz and some whipped cream."

"Don't tempt me, Castle," she groused, also sitting up. "I need fuel if you want to keep going all night."

"All night?" he repeated.

She gave him a scorching look.

"Fuel it is!" he hopped off the table, flexing for half a second because he knew she'd be checking out his butt.

"Yeah yeah," she waved him off when he glanced back to try and catch her. "I like your ass. Get over it and go make me food!"

He looked around for his boxers as he made a last request. "I'll make you food if you promise to write something in The Book."

"Sounds like a fair deal," she shrugged, shifting her body so her legs dangled off the edge of the desk, backlit by the fading light through the window. Another picture perfect fantasy.

"The first entry of many," he added. He planned to bring her back here again. And again and again. She ducked her head, understanding exactly what he meant.

"A very fine deal," she said quietly. He strode quickly towards her, gathering her up in her arms and giving her a deep kiss, full of promise and hope and joy.

"Come find me in the kitchen when you're done," he said, kissing her again.

"Mmmhmm," she agreed, kissing back.

"Dinner," he protested with another kiss.

"Sure." Another kiss.

"Okay, this is the point where if Espo were here he'd be rolling his eyes and calling us disgusting."

"If Espo were here, Castle, we wouldn't be kissing; you'd be heroically trying to block me from view so he doesn't see me naked."

The writer pulled back, his eyes perusing her skin. "Mmm. Very naked."

"Dinner!" she exclaimed, pushing back on his shoulders. He sighed mournfully, giving her one last lewd look before turning and walking towards the door, pulling his jeans up on the way. With a move that bespoke a man without a care in the world he threw the double doors wide open. Kate thought she could hear him humming as walked away, the doors swinging shut behind him. She gracefully hopped off the table, her thighs tightening at the impact with the floor, a delicious ache between them. God he was good. She stepped lightly towards her dress, pulling it on over her head. Dressing was so much easier when you didn't have to worry about under things. She should do it more often. They were rather pointless anyways, when it came to Castle. They just got thrown off of her. She chuckled to herself as she thought of how badly she could tease him if she didn't wear panties to the precinct. Better not, though. He was a great partner; she didn't actually want him to have a heart attack.

She wandered back to the desk and knelt down beside it to gather everything they'd pushed off it, setting it back on the table. She gnawed at the inside of her cheek while she thought about what she should write. Something funny? Something sentimental? She wasn't one for lengthy exposition, so something nice, short, and simple. Something honest. He deserved that.

With a start she realized she knew exactly what to write. She gripped the pen between her fingers as a giddy rush swept through her, making her fingers shake as she started to write. Her scrawl was flowing and neat in a way people rarely saw. She just couldn't be bothered with fine scripture when rushing to jot down ideas on a murder board.

"Kate, you done yet?" She heard his voice echo from somewhere outside the library. "I could use some help here! Or, you know, we could put dinner on hold for a bit and just make out."

Laughter bubbled out of her as she placed the pen on the table and gently closed the book. He could find what she wrote later. Her stomach knotted in thrilled anticipation for when he did, not quite believing what she'd just done. It was too late to take it back now. It was written, permanently inscribed, forever. She heard him calling for her again and smiled, biting her lip. She walked out of the library and towards the kitchen.

The book sat innocently on the table, its pages filled with memories. Hours had been spent looking back through them, bringing forth laughter and tears. Page 247, the ink just dried, waited to be discovered.

* * *

_July 28, 2012._

_I love Richard Castle._

* * *

The End

* * *

Well there we have it! I realized about halfway through that I was writing it mainly from Castle's perspective which is very odd; usually I end up writing from the female POV, for obvious reasons. But the Hampton's is his place, you know? This is, while monumental for Kate, I think a bit more monumental to Castle. Maybe if I ever wrote a sequel it would be from Kate's eyes ;)

Speaking of Kate, the dress I most likely described in a horrible and unclear way, was supposed to be the white dress Stana wore in For Lover's Only. If you don't know what I'm talking about, say so in a nice little review and I'll send you a link to a pic!

I often use outfits the characters/actors have worn before; I like readers to have as clear an image in their heads as possible!

Speaking of clear images… you all seen the BTS pictures today of them on a boat!? Weeeeeeeh! Had to make a quick addition to the beginning of this story ;)

Please share your thoughts, good, bad or random, and let me know if you have any interest in more Castle fic from me I'd really love to explore this wonderful world, and these amazing characters.

Love and smooches, MajorSam


	2. Rain

**A/N**: So I really had no intentions of continuing this story… but then you people had to go and REVIEW and make me blush and stuff and then hot diggity if the "Murder He Wrote" promo pics didn't just have to go and be released. I was lying on a couch after having gazed at them for an hour or so, eyes closed and daydreaming, when what do my ears hear? RAIN! Yes, a sweet lovely rain. All of these things were signs from the universe that I HAD to write another chapter. And get inspired for possible a few more, ACK! Depending on response, of course. I sincerely hope you continue to enjoy, review, and tell all your friends

* * *

It is possibly one of the most clichéd moments of Kate Beckett's life. She's getting rather used to clichéd moments, though. To have a life with Richard Castle you kind of had to accept them and move on. She knows he's trying really hard to not be cliché, to not do the classic wine-and-dine wooing that he was used to, knowing that isn't her style but still… clichés happened. Kate can admit to herself, in the now rare, quiet moments alone, that she, perhaps, was contributing to some of their rather sappy moments. What was one supposed to do when out at dinner with their favourite author/partner/best friend/lover and he offers you a bite of his dessert? You lean across the table and accept it, of course. And if she happens to have a goofy, love-struck look on her face as she does, well… what's a girl supposed to do? The cheesy moment she finds herself in at this exact moment isn't even his fault, anyway. It's Mother Nature's.

They'd been casually strolling along the beach (yes, clichéd) holding hands (even worse) when the sky suddenly clouded over, giving them barely a few minutes warning before the heavens opened up and a summer deluge blanketed them. Too far from the house to escape it in time, they were soaked to the bone within moments. She'd laughed at his bedraggled form. He'd laughed back at her. Then, somehow, they'd ended up kissing.

Yes, they are now kissing on the beach, completely wrapped in each other's arms while the warm summer rain lights up the ocean beside them. Millions of tiny drops, each one rippling outwards to hit another, and another, create a vast expanse of tumultuous yet gentle waves. Kate briefly thinks that someone could probably write a beautiful poem about the ocean in a summer rain.

_Oh god,_ she thinks. _What has Richard Castle done to my mind?_ _Am I in high school again? _

Whatever influence he's had on her mind, Beckett is more than happy with the influence he is currently having on her body. His strong arms are wrapped around her, his left arm banded across her back, his hand holding onto her left hip. His right arm reaches across her back and shoulders so his hand can cradle her neck, fingers buried in the hair that clings wetly to her skin. His lips worship hers while his tongue explores her mouth like it was the first time he's ever kissed her. She has to stand up on her toes to kiss him as fully as she wants, having worn simple flat sandals for their walk. Her arms move down the broad expanse of his back, coming to rest at his fine behind. She smiles against his lips as she squeezes, feeling his mouth freeze for a second in surprise. Then he's kissing her even harder, delving even deeper with tongue and holding onto her like they are actually in the middle of the rain-swept ocean and she's his life-raft.

She squeezes him again and when he growls, she can't help but lean back and let loose a small laugh. She opens her eyes to witness the spectacular sight that is Richard Castle, hair wet and plastered to his face, mouth hanging open, eyes hazy with arousal and frustration. She laughs again, twisting her body so the next second she's free from his arms and running through the damp sand.

"Kate!" he calls. The desperation in his voice serves only to increase her humour.

"You want me, Castle?" she taunts, turning around to see him standing, arms hanging limp by his sides. "Then come and catch me!"

"Are you serious right now?" His voice always goes high-pitched when he's turned on and she backs off like this. Some might think it pathetic. She thinks it's adorable. Not that he needs to know that.

"So very serious," she assures him, still walking backwards. He has longer legs but she's fast; if he wants to catch her he'll have to start moving soon.

"You drive me crazy, you know that?" he grouses loudly.

"I try," she shrugs.

His eyes narrow and she feels a thrill of anticipation climb up her spine. She loves working him up like this. Yes, he growls and complains and gets angry but the payoff in the end is always _so_ worth it. She turns around to take off again just as she hears his feet start to move. It's hard to run in sand on a good day, but when it's wet it's even worse, sticking to you, not wanting to let go. She can't help a little shriek of nervous laughter as she hears him getting closer and closer. Yes, she's shrieking like a little girl. So what? Castle had once said that his fame and fortune had brought out his inner child. It seems he was now bringing out the child in Beckett. The care-free, unencumbered, joyous side to her that she'd kept so stubbornly hidden. Here with him, in the Hamptons, Kate can't quite remember why she'd been so afraid of letting go.

"Getting distracted, Detective?"

She barely has time to gasp before two strong arms wrap around her and lift her clear off the ground.

"How did you…?" she pants, trying to catch her breath as he twirls her around.

"You slowed down all of a sudden like you'd caught sight of something," he replies. "I caught up to you in like, three seconds."

She's embarrassed only for a few seconds. A hardcore, trained detective being caught by a writer who sits around with a laptop all day? Ok fine, he's taken to going on runs lately, runs he tries to keep secret, but still, she should have been able to make it to the house, easily. If she hadn't been distracted, exactly as he'd said, by thoughts of the good he was doing for her.

"So what distracted you?" he asks, setting her back on the sand and leaning down to nuzzle at her cheek.

"Nothing," she insists.

"Mmhmm, right."

But he lets it go, getting rather distracted himself by the long column of her neck, and the amazing taste of her skin mixed with sweet summer rain.

Kate knows she has to calm things down when he lifts her up again and starts walking towards the water.

"Castle," she protests against his lips. "Put me down."

He mumbles something she can't understand.

"Castle!" she tries to pull away but his lips follow hers and his hand is on her head, keeping her in place. Yes, he can hold her up with only one arm. God…

She moves her hands to cradle his head then suddenly clamps her fingers down on his ears.

"Ow!" he exclaims pulling back. The hand at her neck flies to her waist as he almost drops her in his shock. She squeezes her legs around him to stay stable as they wobble precariously for a moment.

"Castle," she says, as seriously as she can while completely wrapped around him. "You are _not_ going to drop me in the ocean right now."

His face falls and she almost feels bad. "Why not?"

"Because as warm as the rain is we're still beside a breezy ocean, and I'm already getting a bit cold."

"But…"

"And I would really like to be warm, right now." She rolls her hips just a bit and his eyes darken.

"I can make you warm," he promises in a low voice.

"I know you can. But I'd also really like to be naked right now."

"I can help you with that too," he smirks.

She raises an eyebrow at him. "Naked in a place that's _not_ public."

"Kate," he admonishes. "I already told you, no one is around. My neighbours are like, a mile away in each direction. And I checked before we came; they're not even in town this weekend. This is literally our own, very private, beach. Our own ocean to play in…" he puts on a face plus you're beyond gorgeous when you're all wet."

Ok, maybe both of them have a special fondness for wet-Beckett. The night she showed up dripping wet at his door is kind of burned indelibly into their minds.

"I'm already wet," she whispers huskily.

He blinks at her desperately before leaning in for a hard kiss. She gives in for just a minute before pulling back with her final argument.

"I do not want sand in places sand shouldn't be," she says firmly.

"We'll lay our clothes out like a blanket!"

"Sand will still get into places! That's what sand does!"

"But…"

"Do you really want chafing to occur? Chafing that could possibly inhibit further… recreation, this weekend?"

His eyes widen for a moment, looking rather horrified.

"Right then," he nods, and starts walking away from the ocean.

"You can put me down now."

He shakes his head. "Nope. I like you right where you are."

"Really?" she leans further into him, rolling her hips again. His hands slide from her hips to her bum and squeeze, trying to pull her away from him.

"Uh-uh," she teases, craning her neck to grab his earlobe between her teeth and nibbling. "Can't get rid of me that easy."

"Kate," he wheezes. "If you don't want to have sex on the beach then you need to stop that, right now."

She instantly complies, laughing silently to herself when he looks disappointed that she listened. He squeezes her ass again and takes a little hop on his next step. She bounces lightly, falling down on a part of Richard Castle that is very, very ready for her. She gasps softly as he hops again, his arousal dragging against her center, covered only by the thin layer of her sundress. Yes, she's wearing a dress again. The look on Castle's face whenever she wears something other than the slacks and blouses of her work wear… wow. Though she's not just dressing up for her man, no way. She likes wearing them for herself.

Her carrier suddenly stops walking, dipping down to kiss her like it's been way too long since he has. Like she's his addiction and he needs a hit. She lets him suck her bottom lip into his mouth as she works her hips against his, needing more than just a skip in his step. They both groan when his hips involuntarily jerk forward against her.

"Kate," he breathes against her, and she knows the time for teasing is done. She pulls away and glances backwards, surprised to see they're almost at the house.

"We can make it," she whispers back. He nods against her lips and starts to move. She's somewhat afraid for their well-being as he stumbles, his eyes closed and concentrated only on her rather than the act of walking. She can't quite bring herself to call him on it. He stumbles again and she decides there is way too much hip-bumping going on for him to not be inside of her.

Now.

She glances down and sees they've at least made it to the well-manicured lawn that precedes the house. Good enough. She bites down on Rick's tongue, hard, and when his grip loosens on her as he grunts in pain she wriggles down. The instant her feet hit the ground she grabs his waist and pulls him down.

"Really?" he asks, eyes lighting up like it's Christmas.

"Grass is better than sand," she says.

"Your dress?"

He looks worried and she can't help but simultaneously swoon and huff in exasperation that he's worried about her wardrobe at a time like this.

"We'll dry clean it," she says, her fingers getting down to business at the button and zipper of his cargo shorts.

"What if it's ruined?"

She pushes him so he's sprawled on his back, moving to straddle him. She leans down, her lips hovering just above his. "Maybe I'll let you buy me a new one."

He groans like she knew he would. They both know Kate has no interest in his money, and that it isn't necessary for him to buy her things, but he still wants to do it. Not to impress her, but simply because he wants to, because he likes trying to show her how special she is, how she deserves someone buying her pretty things. She always rolls her eyes and refuses. In this case, though, as he runs his hands up her thighs, she might just enjoy letting him buy her a dress, knowing how hers had been ruined.

Castle seems to sense her thoughts. The next thing she knows she's on her back, pressed firmly into the wet grass while her lover's tongue trails down her neck. He stops at the hollow of her collarbones, sucking on the little pool of rain that had instantly gathered there. She works her hands between their chests, hurriedly attending the buttons of his short-sleeved shirt.

"Leave it," he tells her, moving his own hands to push his shorts down. He wants her now, doesn't want to waste any time removing clothing that don't need to be.

"No," she shakes her head. "I want it off."

She gazes up at him with a look she knows he can't refuse. He lets out a frustrated noise before sitting up and quickly pulling his shirt over his head. She grins as droplets of rain quickly cover him, running down his broad chest in little rivulets. It's raining but the sky is still bright and he looks like some kind of demi-god, risen from the water. She moves up to trace one of the rivulets with her tongue, swirling it around his nipple when she encounters it. Then his hands are in her hair, getting tangled in the wet strands but she doesn't care. He pulls her off of him and pushes her down, his mouth on hers. Their tongues duel as he kicks his shorts off, boxers swiftly following before his hands are under her skirt and pushing up.

And then he's inside of her and everything is right.

Her legs wrap around him, slipping a bit because his bare skin is wet with rain. He starts moving, hard and fast right from the get-go and it's a constant battle to keep her legs around him but it's a battle she is more than happy to fight.

They're already too far to be able to get Kate's dress off so Castle has to contend with palming her breast through the fabric, pinching her nipple and wishing he could see the rain on her skin. She thinks at first that this will be over quickly, after all the teasing, but as the rain continues to pour Rick seems to calm down, the water washing away the desperate need. They're not just going at it in the grass, he's making _love_ to her and she feels like she's sinking into the Earth, gaining some magical symbiosis with nature itself. Yes, sex with Castle is making her a tad hyperbolic, but it _was_ pretty epic. Whether it was slow or fast, hard or gentle, they made every single moment count.

His mouth is at her neck again, one of his favourite spots, and when he bites down she clamps her legs, her core tightening around him. He bites down again and thrusts a little harder and breath leaves her. She knows she's done for when his lips leaves her and he tells her to open her eyes. He likes to watch when she unravels. He looks at her like she's some sacred thing, and when she sees that look in his eyes she knows she'll be coming for him within moments. When he looks at her like that she knows he will stop at nothing to bring her to completion. The ocean could rise up in a tidal wave and sweep them away but he would make sure she comes first.

His hand slides down between them, encountering the wetness that isn't just rain, stroking, caressing, touching her just-so. Rain drips into her open eyes and she blinks rapidly, trying to keep them open for him.

When the moment arrives she finally fails, breaking eye contact with him as her eyes roll back in her head and her vision goes white. The pattering of the rain and the waves of the ocean go silent and all she knows is the feel of his body, the hot puff of air against her neck and the soft "Kate…" he groans as he follows her down.

It's only the feel of mud seeping through her dress and onto her back that finally prompts her to move. She shifts, moaning as she remembers he's still inside of her. He mumbles something and slips out, collapsing on his back beside her.

"Castle," she says quietly, rolling onto her side to look at him. He's completely naked, his tan skin a stark contrast to the dark green grass. The sheen of sweat and rain makes his skin glisten. She finally fully understands what Lanie had been talking about when she'd talked about there being "A glow".

"Come on, Castle," she says, sitting up. "Time to go inside."

"Mmm, why?" he complains. "I like it out here."

"So do I," she agrees, reaching out and tracing the skin of his torso with her fingers, just because she can. "But as with sand, we don't want mud getting anywhere sensitive, do we?"

He cracks open an eye and looks at her, gauging how serious she was. "Fine," he sighs, sitting up and rooting around for his clothes. He starts pulling on his shorts but she stops him.

"No need for those," she says mildly, starting towards the back doors to the house.

"No?"

"We're just going straight to the shower once we're inside."

She glances back to see his face. Yup. Just like Christmas. With a slightly predatory edge.

"You know," he comments as he hurries to catch up with her. She lets him get a step or two ahead so she can watch his bare behind as he walks. "Singin' in the Rain is one of my favourite movies," he continues. "I always thought that people should do more things outside in the rain. Why does everyone try to hide inside?"

"One of your favourites movies, huh?" Kate grins. "You know, Castle, if you ever have the urge to break out into song during a rainstorm please, feel free."

"Oh you'd love that, wouldn't you?"

"Oh yes. And I'm sure Ryan and Esposito would to."

The door closes behind them as they enter the house, running quickly through the lounge room, hoping not to drip on the carpet.

"What are you implying, detective?" he asks. "That you're secretly going to film me serenading you and twist my gesture of gallant, charming affection into some kind of joke?"

"Who, me?"

"That impish smile won't work on me, you know."

"Are you kidding? It works every time!"

Their banter continues until they hit the expansive shower upstairs, and Castle finally gets to see Kate water drenched and gorgeous.

_To Be Continued…_

* * *

What did you guys think? Any requests for other "Favourite" things our favourite couple can discover/share/enjoy!? Please let me know ;) The rain in this one was partially inspired by RL, and partially by a number of requests I saw on tumblr :) Did you notice I tried yet another experiment with this fic… Using PRESENT tense! I've only ever written in past tense but about halfway through this story I started using Present, and I was like "Woah, say what? Now this whole thing is all garbled and I have to decide." Present tense won.


	3. Sweet

**A/N:** Happy Thanksgiving to my fellow Canadians! :D May ye be soon stuffed with turkey, pie, good cheer, and other such things to be thankful for (Like that tomorrow is Castle Monday again ;) )

* * *

"You know," Castle says as he opens the fridge, "Lunch might just be my favourite meal."

"And why's that?" Kate asks, pouring herself a glass of water from the tap.

"Well, theoretically you're supposed to have something like a sandwich, or leftovers, or fast food."

"Ok…?"

"But really you could have pancakes or omelets or whatever you want, and just call it brunch!"

"If you have to call it brunch to eat whatever you want wouldn't brunch be your favourite meal?"

He raises and eyebrow and whispers "Logic," like it was a dirty word.

Kate laughs before sipping from her water. "The brilliant insights of Richard Castle, bestselling author."

"Not insights," he protests. "Just… musings."

"Ah, I see. In that case, may the muse take a moment to muse?"

"That's one of the hottest things you've ever said."

She ignores him and moves to open a cupboard. "One of my favourite things is foods you can eat at any time of the day."

"Like chocolate?" he says.

"Like chocolate," she grins and nods. "But also like…" She grabs something from the cupboard and turns to face him, revealing her prize. "Nutella."

His eyes grow wide.

"You like nutella?" he asks in a small voice.

"I _love_ nutella," she corrects. She slowly starts to open the jar. "I love it on toast. I love it with fruit. I even love it…" she now reaches into a drawer and pulls out a spoon. "All by itself."

And then she dips the spoon into the jar, scoops up a healthy portion, and brings it to her mouth. Castle swears that time suddenly fades into glorious, Hollywood style slow-motion as her tongue peeks out between her rosy lips to lick at the spoon. Any rational thought flees his mind as her eyes close and a dirty little moan escapes her mouth.

"Beckett…" he chokes.

"So good," she whispers as she takes another lick.

"Evil!" he squeaks as she slowly licks her lips and opens her eyes. She laughs wickedly at him.

"Poor baby," she mocks. Her mouth completely envelopes the head of the spoon, working her mouth up the sweet offering in exaggerated pleasure. Her eyes dance as she watches him, knowing exactly what she's doing to him.

"Oh you're asking for it," he growls before lunging towards her. She laughs, joyous and free, and puts the jar of nutella down on the counter, bracing herself for what she knows he's going to do. Sure enough, as soon as he's in front of her he picks her up spins her around and drops her onto the granite countertop of the kitchen island. Then his tongue is in her mouth with wide, sweeping arcs, clearing every trace of chocolatey hazelnut from her tongue, teeth, lips.

"You taste so good," he moans into her.

"You've said that before," she counters.

"Even better now."

She pulls back. "What, I'm not good enough all by myself?"

Worry flitters across his face and she takes pity on him.

"I'm kidding," she swears. "God, Castle, you need to learn to take a joke. Keep calm and carry on, and all that."

"Keep calm?" he sputters. "Calm down when you're… with that damn spoon… and…"

Teasing is what they do but she knows she's been messing with him a bit more lately, maybe a little too much. This is all still too new and she's doing what he does, using humour to avoid addressing real emotions, real feelings. She relents again and kisses him, tries to tell him with her actions that she's not actually upset with him.

"You taste good with nutella too," she tells him in between kisses.

"Oh yeah?" he smiles.

"Yeah."

He reaches behind him to where her arms are wrapped; plucking the spoon she's still holding from her fingers. He brings it between them and puts the spoon between his lips, sucking the rest of the chocolate spread into his mouth.

"Now I'll taste _real_ good," he proclaims, grinning widely at her. She bursts into laughter at the sight of his brown teeth and boyish expression. Only this man could be so childish and still turn her on. She eagerly wraps her arms around his neck and plunders his mouth with her tongue. It's sticky and messy and one of the best kisses she's ever had. When she's positive all traces of nutella have been cleaned she leans back and smacks her lips loudly.

"Yup. Tastiest author I've ever had."

He narrows his eyes in suspicion. "Have you had other authors?"

"You've had other muses."

"One! And that wasn't… I told you, that was different!"

"I know..." She ducks her head as she confesses. "But I still sometimes want to make sure I'm the _only_ muse on your mind, now."

"Oh, Kate," he exhales. "You are the only muse I will ever need. Ever again."

Her stomach flips a bit and she has to just sit, unmoving for a moment. He reaches for something across the island but she stays still, reveling in the feel of him standing between her legs, his musky scent so close.

And then something sticky touches her neck.

"Ew, what the he…" she starts to complain before his lips fasten onto her tender skin. "Oh…" she breathes. He licks at the nutella he spooned onto her for a moment, clearing away most of it before scraping his teeth against her, gathering it up. Finally he latches on and sucks, tongue swirling around just to make sure it's all gone. She holds onto him with weak arms, unconsciously leaning back, barely able to hold herself up against his onslaught.

"So delicious," he murmurs as he places another dollop of sweet goodness in the middle of her chest, right above the neckline of her v-neck top. She threads her fingers through his hair and holds him against her as he lavishes her skin. Her legs wrap around him and tighten, pulling him closer to her. He places his hands solidly on the granite at her sides and then somehow he's pushing her back along the length of the island, rising up onto it more gracefully than a man his size should be able to. Ok fine, a few things clatter to the floor and he bangs his knee so it's not a perfect movie moment but really, who needs movies and TV shows and fakery when she has the real-life Richard Castle, in the flesh, on top of her?

It seems he managed to keep the jar of nutella on the counter because the moment he has her shirt off (When did that happen?) there's a spot of dark, creamy chocolate in her belly button and a very hungry Castle moving towards it. She hums loudly as his tongue dips in and out of her, slightly ticklish, but even more arousing. They'd done barely anything on this trip besides the occasional meal and the seemingly endless rounds of … what? Sex? No, that word didn't seem right. They definitely weren't just fucking, though in some contexts she rather enjoyed using the word. Making Love… He hadn't yet found her entry in The Book so she didn't dare use that term out loud. Yet. Well whatever they were doing, they could barely stop for even a few hours. She is _not_ about to complain. From the way he's ravishing her skin, neither is he.

He's playing over her skin like it's the first time, but she can feel the confidence in his movements, he knows exactly what to do to her to make her crazy. His mouth at her stomach, his hands running up her thighs... She'd thought that once they'd actually slept together the outrageous amount of chemistry they had would dwindle. She couldn't have been farther from the truth. If anything she just wanted him more now, anytime, _all_ the time, anywhere, anyhow. A rapid montage of some of their more spectacular nights flashed through her mind, and the fire that had been growing in her core explodes, stoked by the movement of his tongue on her skin. Suddenly the idea of some good, hard fucking was very, very appealing. Everything this weekend had been so sweet and tender, which was great, but she was feeling frisky and she wanted him _right_ _now_.

"Castle," she breathes in warning.

"What?" he raises his head to look at her, his eyes cloudy and a spot of nutella lingering at the corner of his mouth.

"Off the island. Now."

He frowns, not understanding. Her mind set, she doesn't give him time to catch up, raising her legs to plant her feet on his chest before shoving. He slides backwards, his eyes going wide as his legs are suddenly flailing through air, the rest of him quickly following suit. He catches himself just in time to prevent any damage, standing on the floor at the end of the counter.

"Ow," he glares at her. "What was that for?"

"No more nutella," she states as she swings herself off the island.

"Why not?" he asks, askance.

"Because stuff like that takes time and I don't want to wait," she states bluntly.

"I was having fun," he protests weakly as she stalks towards him.

"Oh we'll still have fun, don't worry," she promises, a feral look in her face.

Suddenly the air shifts, growing even hotter, as if the air conditioning had suddenly broken. It's like she's unknowingly flicked a switch inside of him. In an instant his eyes go so dark they're almost black, his back straightens, and suddenly he's looming over her, all barely contained passion and coiled strength. For a second she's almost afraid. Before she knows it he's swung her around and shoved her against the fridge door, a shock of cold running through her as her bare skin hits its surface, making her gasp.

"Why do we always have to do what you want?" he asks in a low voice.

"We don't…" she begins but he cuts her off with a rough kiss.

"We do," he says when he pulls back, leaving her breathless. "You tease me and taunt me and then if something's not going to plan, you flip your hair or use that sexy voice of yours and expect me to cater to your every whim."

Her eyes are wide as her mouth falls open.

"I don't…"

"Now I'm not saying I don't love when you take charge," he assures her. "And God as my witness I love your teasing… but we're not out in the field right now. You're not the detective and I'm not your plucky side kick."

"I know that."

"Do you?" He asks, then rolls his hips into hers. She bites her lip and frowns, trying to ignore the shudder of pleasure and focus on his words.

"I do," she insists.

"You teased me for four years, Beckett."

She shivers at the underlying danger in his voice. She's never seen this side of him.

"And I know you're used to being in charge but when you're with me like this, in the Hamptons, at my loft… we are partners. Equals."

She nods weakly as he grinds into her again.

"So if I want to play with you and a jar of nutella, I would really appreciate it if you could compromise and just let me play."

She's feeling faint now, the heady mixture of his dark tone and the idea of letting him play with her conjuring up all kinds of kinky images and yeah, she did always have a thing for bad boys. And while Castle had always had his wild, playboy image, the man himself was usually sweet and childish and funny. This brooding, muscular man towering above her and asserting his right to do whatever he wanted to her was something she didn't know she'd been craving. Is that why she'd been teasing him so much this weekend? Messing around with him when she knows he still barely believes they're together, barely believes any of this is real? So that he would finally snap and just claim her, pound into her until he could finally _know_ she was with him, all the way?

Kate can't express any of these things to him though, because he's tearing off her shorts, pushing his own to the ground and then he's slamming into her against the fridge. She cries out at his abrupt intrusion, a fissure of pain mixing with an explosion of pleasure. She can't do anything but grab onto him and hold on for dear life as he thrusts into her with abandon. She realizes he's been holding back since they got together. There's a whole lot of unbridled, powerful _man_ in him, and though he's sweet and metro and sometimes kind of dopey, he knows how to turn on the pure masculinity.

Another cry is torn from her mouth as he reaches up and grabs her bra, pulling half of it down to reveal a breast which he grabs and roughly kneads. His other hand is at her hip, cupping her ass, gripping so hard she knows there will at least be bruises, if not the imprints of his fingernails too.

"God…" she whimpers, his pounding relentless.

Gravity helps to slam her back down onto him, allowing him to slip deeper into her than he ever had, forcing moans and gasps and cries on every thrust. He's still got his shirt on and at first the fabric feels good sliding against her skin, the friction titillating. Then he's going even faster and the shirt is rubbing too hard and it hurts but she doesn't want him to stop. His lips and teeth and tongue are everywhere, biting, marking, between mutterings of her name and choked growls, his hot breath scalding her skin. Her blood zips through her veins like she's on speed, barely able to catch a breath, unable to comprehend anything but the feel and smell and taste of him, completely at his mercy. Her legs are clamped so hard around his waist she's surprised he can still breathe. His hands are starting to slip from her sweat and his movements grow sloppy, their movements making obscene noises that echo through the kitchen. For the first time ever, in the heat of his fervor, whatever rage he'd suddenly found himself in, he doesn't make sure she comes before he does. His pace just increases, impossibly harder, faster, for a few mind-blowing moments of pain twisting with pleasure before he's crying out and biting into her neck. Her head bangs back against the fridge as she screams, following him even without his help. Then they're collapsing to the floor in a mess of sweaty skin and tangled limbs.

"Holy shit…" she breathes, wiping sweaty bangs from her forehead. She'd wanted a good, hard fuck, but he'd taken the idea and completely run away with it. She looks over at him and her heart stutters. He's looking at her with a look so lost, so forlorn, she doesn't what to do.

"Castle, what's wrong?" she asks, reaching out and cupping his face.

"I'm sorry," he says on a rushed breath, shying back from her touch. "God, Kate I am so sorry!" He scrambles to sit up, reaching out and grasping her arms. "Did I hurt you?"

"Hurt me…? What are you talking about?"

"I'm sorry," he says again. "I don't know what happened. Something just… and then I was all caveman and I swear if I hurt you, I…"

"Castle," she states in a firm voice, "You didn't hurt me."

His gaze is raking over her, landing on the vivid mark he's just left on her neck, spotted red.

"Kate," he whispers, his voice broken and his hand rises as if to touch her, but it stops just before he does.

"Rick," she says, grasping his head between both her hands and forcing him to look at her. "You didn't hurt me," she repeats slowly, emphasizing each word.

"But…"

"You didn't."

"Are you sure?" he asks, one last time.

"Rick," she whispers, "I'm fine. That was…"

"Brutal," he spits, disgusted at himself.

"Amazing," she corrects. Her body is still buzzing.

He stares at her in disbelief.

"I don't know what just happened," she admits, "But it was pretty damn incredible."

"I just…" he starts. "I just sometimes still can't believe that we're finally here. Not just in the Hamptons, but… together, you know?"

"I do," she nods, stroking her fingers across his cheeks.

"And I know you don't tease to be cruel, or flippant, but sometimes this little voice in my head wonders _what if this is all a game_? What if it's a passing thing? So I just needed to…"

Her heart breaks and she has to look away, her hands dropping to her sides. She had hurt him so much in the past, left him to wonder, wallow, despair… She knew she had things to make up for, they both did, but she hadn't realized how much. They'd played with power in the bedroom before but that was for fun. This was real. They were both still afraid the other would lose interest, wasn't as hopelessly in love as they knew themselves to be. These first few months together had been like a dream… Was it already time to wake up?

"It's not a passing thing," she says quietly. Maybe she's admitting something, committing to more than she's ready for but deep inside she knows she is. She hadn't been ready to say it out loud yet, but it seems that Richard Castle, as he often did, had thrown a wrench in her well-laid plans.

He doesn't say anything more, merely looks at her solemnly for a few seconds. Then she sees resolve build before her very eyes. He leans towards her but hesitates. She breaches the final gap between them and kisses him, softly, sweetly. His lips tremble under hers and she brings her hands back to his face.

They stay sitting against the fridge, ignoring the cold, for a long time, occasionally kissing, stroking the other's skin. When the floor gets uncomfortably cold they find their shorts and pull them on over legs shaky with exertion. Finally, one of their stomach's rumble. They're not sure whose.

"So, lunch?" Kate asks.

"Yeah," Castle nods.

He stands up and offers her a hand. She takes it.

_To be continued…_

* * *

**A/N:** Well THAT certainly went way off the path I'd intended it to take… WHEW! Hello Mr. Castle… The last two chapters have been rather mushy goo, so I wanted one with some more "reowr" behind it but I did not expect THIS to appear. Apparently my subconscious saw things I hadn't realized. Well, regardless, I think I'm happy with how it came out? Some things needed to be said and done and now that they've broken through this power-barrier and Castle doesn't have to hold back anymore… imagine the possibilities! This couple will always be intense. Oh my. I can only hope you guys liked this chapter too… :S Maybe it wasn't for everyone? What are your opinions on both their views of this whole situation? Was it all in character? Should I have elaborated more/does it make sense? PLEASE let me know!

The nutella was inspired by my love of foodporn (See my other fandoms… oy…) and, of course, Stana's tweet. That girl got taste. The "Keep calm and carry on" remark was for all the many splendid variations the Castle fandom has come up with on tumblr; you guys are awesome. I have the next chapter planned out, but once that's done I'm open for suggestions of other "favourite" things to explore! It's funny; so far most of my requests have been foody things ;) Heh. I like you people. Hit that lil review button and let me know please


	4. Kate

Beckett is waiting for him on the bed when he comes in, sitting up against a stack of ridiculously plush satin covered pillows. She's wearing a pair of lacy black panties and his white button down. The one she knows he loves, has somewhat of a fixation with in fact.

Things have been unnaturally tense between them for the last several hours. Since the incident in the kitchen. She'd told him time and again that she was fine, but even if she was, Castle was not. He was quiet, subdued… and not in the happy relaxed way one should be during a romantic getaway at the beach. She'd caught him staring at her out of the corner of his eye several times. He looked afraid; like he still worried she was going to run away. The exact opposite of what she'd hoped would happen once he finally snapped and claimed her. Kate had done all she could to reassure him, ground him. She took every opportunity to touch him; a soft brush of her fingers to his shoulder as she walked past, resting her head on his shoulder when they sat on the bench overlooking the ocean, holding his hand and lifting his fingers to her lips.

He allowed it all, thank god; he didn't shy back or anything. She didn't know what she would have done if he had. At the same time, though, he took no move to touch her back. Her strokes were unanswered, her kisses not reciprocated. It took everything she had to stay calm, patient for him. He'd once waited over three months for her to work through her issues, she could allow him half a day. But it was hard, so hard to be with him but not have him present. She had so many years of practice at holding back from him but she seems to have suddenly lost that ability completely.

Dinner was a quiet affair that had her nearly crawling out of her skin. Kate needed Rick back. When he'd started silently doing the dishes afterwards she'd let out a soft sigh and proclaimed she was tired and going to bed early. His eyes flittered only briefly to hers, and she hoped the "Join me" message was clear.

It was now an hour later and she was about to give up. She was on the verge of actually attempting sleep, the emotional turmoil of the day having worn her out, when he finally opens the door.

Now he's there, in the room, staring at her with something deep and undefinable in his eyes. Kate stays silent, finished with her touches, hints, words. She's here for him if he'll have her but it's up to his own stubborn self. She prays the bubble of their first few, glorious months hasn't burst.

She watches silently as he reaches to the bottom edge of his shirt, smoothly pulling it off. Hope blossoms in her chest. He shucks his shorts off, leaving him in only his dark blue silk boxers. They'd been green earlier, but after the kitchen they'd both showered off the sweat, sex, and nutella… separately.

Castle bends to pick up his clothes and turns to fold and put them away.

Kate gasps.

"Oh my god, Castle…"

His back is covered in shallow, red welts. She doesn't' remember inflicting them, so caught up in the red haze of their passion. She didn't realize she was clawing at him, egging him on, trying to be closer, closer, crawl inside of him. She hadn't succeeded but it seems her nails had.

"It's fine," he responds quietly, mirroring her own words.

"Did you…"

"I cleaned them and put some polysporin on, yes."

"I'm sorry," she whispers.

He shrugs, nonchalant. "I deserved it."

The detective swallows heavily. "They weren't meant to punish you. I was encouraging you."

He turns back to her slowly, his eyes downcast.

"How could you have wanted me to…"

"Because I…" her throat suddenly seizes, clogging, her heart clenching. "Because I'm with you, Castle, all the way. I want to know every side of you, all of you. I want to give you what makes you happy. Frankly I'm insulted that you thought I would let you get away with anything I didn't want. If you want to fuck me against a fridge then do it. I'm yours."

His eyes flicker and oh god is that moisture shining in the blue depths?

"Kate, I…"

"C'mere, Castle," she says softly, holding out her hand to him.

He looks at it for a moment before starting forward. Kate's body tenses, her skin sensing his proximity, smelling his unique scent, totally tuned to him. He takes her hand gently and perches on the edge of the bed. She threads her slim fingers through the thickness of his.

"I know," he begins after a deep breath, "How hard it is for you to give up control." His eyes flick to hers, waiting for a rebuke. He plows forward through her silence. "It's one of the things I most admire about you. Your independence, your fierce will. There is so, so much I want to do to you… with you."

A shudder runs through her, pooling around her center, tickling at the edges.

"But I never, ever want to take anything from you that you don't want to give."

"Castle, if I hadn't wanted it, you'd have known. I do have the ability to kick your ass, remember."

He lets loose a rough chuckle.

"Normally yes, but in the position we were in… Could you have? You were completely vulnerable, Kate."

Involuntary hackles rise in her. Vulnerable was not a word she liked associated with her.

Normally.

But her relationship with Castle had never been normal, had it? For him, only him, she could be vulnerable. She had to work at it every day but he was wearing her down at an alarming rate. She had never even considered letting a man "claim" her before, but Castle…? It was terrifying how much she wanted to give him. How often had she smiled, laughed, in the last few months? He made her happy.

"I trust you," she says. Simple, to the point, honest.

His eyes close. She can see his pulse jumping at his throat and wonders what he's thinking, feeling. Suddenly her body is lurching towards him, her fingers spreading out as she lays her palm against his chest, over his heart. He sucks in a breath. She can feel the erratic pounding of him, his heart, his being, for her.

There's barely a second between the time he opens his eyes and when his lips meet hers. So soft, so gentle, and holding more passion, love, than she's ever experienced or imagined possible.

"Kate," he whispers reverently, kissing her again.

"Kate," he moans, his hands coming up to cradle her face, thumbs brushing over her cheekbones as softly as one would a porcelain doll.

Beckett doesn't push, initiate, anything except let him do what he needs to do as she tries to pour all her acceptance and love right back, her lips the conduit. His warm tongue slides across the seam of her lips and she moans in appreciation, parting instantly. Castle groans as the taste of her floods his senses for the first time in so many hours. Too many hours, and it was his own damn fault. Her tongue meets his in a slippery dance. Unable to resist any longer she lifts her other hand to his chest, reveling in the way he ripples and shudders at her touch. He shifts, turning his body toward her and climbing fully onto the bed. He pushes her back against the pillows, his mouth never leaving hers.

She relaxes and lets her body melt under him, pliant. A blank canvass waiting to be painted on by the colours of his love, the strokes of his body.

But he just keeps kissing her, sucking rational thought away and leaving her breathless, yet more full than she's ever been. The act of kissing could sometimes be the most intimate caress of all, fused at the place where you draw breath, the air that keeps you alive. Sharing the sacred substance, breathing as one, and if you open your eyes…

Kate does, and once again a gasp is drawn from her. Castle's eyes are barely an inch away from hers, swimming in and out of focus from the proximity but nearly blinding with the light that shines from them. The pure, unadulterated adoration, love, awe, joy, gratitude. Their kiss slowly comes to a halt. Their lips merely touch, sharing ragged breaths as they stare at one another.

After minutes, hours, he breaks the spell with another exalted "Kate."

Her hands at his chest push him gently away. He falls back, knees bent, resting on his legs.

Kate pushes herself off the cushions and rises up on her knees in front of him. Her hands move to the open fluttering edges of the white shirt she wears for him. Never breaking eye contact, she slips it off her shoulders, the rich material falling soundlessly behind her. She tosses it aside, kneeling tall, proud but open, exposed for him. His gaze roams her body, the blue orbs darkening by the second. With every breath she takes her breasts lift just so, her nipples tightening under his look alone, crying out to him for attention as her breath quickens in anticipation.

* * *

A large hand wraps around her waist, pulling her forward. Just before her chest meets his, heat emanating between them, his other hand moves to her shoulder and he's bending her backwards. She lets herself be pushed, falling onto the bed. Her tan skin stands out across the light bedding. His hands move to her legs, helping her to stretch the out across the sheets. He could stare at their endless length forever, but doesn't. He moves one of his strong legs between her thighs, the other resting beside her left leg. He takes her hands in his and raises her arms above her head. She relaxes them as he skims his fingers down the sensitive skin of her forearms, the crook of her elbows, her shoulders and collarbones. Suddenly he skips down to her waist, clasping her curves and looming over her, his broad form blocking out most of the dim light of the room.

Castle leans across her and answers the call of her breasts, enveloping her right nipple in the hot, wet heat of his mouth. A deep moan falls from her lips as he slowly devours her, tongue rolling the tight bud between his lips, teeth nibbling. She wants more, harder, sharper, but knows it's not the time. She can only hope her breathy sighs let him know how much she wants him. His hands coast up and down her sides as he lavishes attention on her chest, eventually pulling away from her with a wet pop before moving to her other breast. Kate grips a pillow in her hands, trying to resist the urge to bury her fingers in his hair, hold him to her and never let him go.

Castle leaves her nipples hard and aching for more when he moves down, lips and tongue meandering, drawing random patterns across her skin but leaving no spot untouched. It's like he's discovering her for the first time again.

Kate jumps when his lips suddenly plant on her neck. When had her eyes closed? His breath washes over her as he sucks on her pulse, tongue lapping, feeling every beat. He nips at the spot behind her ear, at her jaw, peppers her face with glancing touches.

Her lips purse and seek his out but he refrains. She keens as he moves back to her neck, his hands coming into play at her breasts, still slick from his saliva. His mouth drifts back to her ear, biting down on the lobe, sucking it into his mouth before releasing it.

"Kate," he whispers, lips brushing against her. "I love you."

She almost comes from his words alone, the emotion pouring from him, coupled with the squeeze of his warm hands.

"Castle…" she pleads, for what she doesn't know. He knows, though. They've been in sync with each other for so long. Not always, often misinterpreting things at the most important of moments, but most of the time. Like now. He glides down her body until his face is level with the only barrier she still wears, a black lace gate. His fingers are the keys but he doesn't use them. His fingertips ghost along the surface, the slightest of pressures, her need ratcheting up at every pass. What is he waiting for?

"Beckett," he pipes up suddenly. He sounds worried.

"Hmm?"

"Earlier… in the kitchen… are you absolutely sure you're ok?"

Oh. He still worried for her. Not emotionally, anymore, but physically. He always put her needs before his own. She wants to say _yes, I'm fine, take me now,_ but stops herself.

"I am a bit sore," she admits. "I don't know if I could…"

"That's fine. I don't' need anything tonight. This is for you."

Flames lick at her core.

"I just didn't even check to make sure you were ready before, and…"

"Castle," she interrupts. "Trust me. After that nutella stuff? I was more than ready…"

She opens her eyes to see him gulp.

"I was so wet, Castle," she breathes, her voice low. "_So_ wet. For you."

He groans, face screwing up as he bows his head, mouth and nose pressing against the damp fabric between her thighs. He inhales slowly, deeply, his mind clouding with the overwhelming scent of her arousal. She's a drug, and he's an addict.

"God, Kate," he breathes into her. Her hips squirm as his hot breath washes over her, sinks into her skin, sending a fresh wave of need downwards. He pulls his head back as his right hand smoothes over her leg, knee, inner thigh. The pads of his thick fingers finally hit lace and rub against her. Her eyes slam shut again, sounds spilling from her mouth as the fabric brushes against nerves still sensitive from the afternoon.

Castle's fingers grow sticky, damp with the moisture that's penetrated through her underwear. Without realizing it Kate starts moving against him, hips rocking forward to press herself against him, the pressure he offers, seeking more, always more. Her hands grip the sheet surrounding her but her body stays flush against the bed, languid, in no hurry at all. She knows it will be worth it in the end. Castle's fingers still as he watches her lithe body, stretched out, eyes closed, slowly achieving her own pleasure against the grounded force of his hand.

She'd lit a single, tall candle on the headboard above them and the flame cast soft shadows, highlighting the sharp prominence of her cheekbones, the curve of her eyebrows, the lushness of her well-kissed lips. The lips that sigh his name though he's barely touching her. He pulls his hand away, Kate's eyebrows dipping down before her eyes blink open slowly, hazily.

"Castle?" she questions. Her voice is so soft, so low that it invokes a shiver that travels the writer's entire form, settling heavily between his legs.

He doesn't answer her. Instead he runs his hands over her legs again, never used to the soft velvet of her skin, the hint at powerful muscles held beneath. He stops at her hips, his broad palms covering her hipbones as his fingers slip beneath her. He gently coaxes her hips off the bed, leans down, and catches black lace in his teeth, pulling it away from her. She groans and he lets it snap back. She huffs loudly and he smiles, hooking his fingers under the lace and sliding it down her legs. He's about to toss it aside when she speaks.

"You can keep those, if you want." Her voice is still so quiet, but rich and full with humour and affection.

Castle's mouth curls up at both ends.

"How could I refuse an offer like that?"

"You never refuse anything I offer," she says wryly. It's meant to be an offhand comment, teasing, but it hits him in the chest.

"No, I don't," he says. "And I don't ever plan to. I want all of you, Kate. All you can offer, whatever that may be. I'll take whatever I can get. If that sounds pathetic and needy, well… " He shrugs. "It's true. I need you."

The often stoic detective looks at him with suspiciously watery eyes. She opens her mouth and he tenses but she doesn't say what he expects.

"Touch me, Castle," she breathes.

He lets out his own breathy groan, rumbling up from his chest. He grips her upper thighs and nudges her legs wider, every scintillating inch of her exposed to his hungry gaze. His body clenches at the sight, one of his favorites in the world, the act he's about to perform one of his favourite undertakings. Funny how many times lately he'd found himself associating the word "favourite" to things involving Kate. He could lose himself in her and never come out. Kate expects him to give in to his hunger, wants him to, but when his lips touch her it's the most tender, gentle, intimate caress… After just the one kiss he migrates to the skin of her thigh, right where leg meets torso, thin skin pulled taught. He bites down and she keens, tensing.

"You feel so good," he whispers, running his tongue up to her hipbone and down into the dip above it. He feels her fingers tangle in his hair and he grins against her. He continues to tease, kissing, licking, nibbling, on everything but her aching center. The author could tell her patience is waning when curses start filling the air. One did not continue to mess with Katherine Beckett once she started swearing in bed. He's relieved, really. He'd been about to cave anyway.

Without further ado his hands resume their position on her hips, after having wrapped his arms underneath her legs and hoisting them over his shoulders. Her heels dig sharply into his back, pulling him forward.

Castle is more than happy to oblige.

His thumbs skate down to part her tender folds as his tongue glances across her entrance, lying flat and licking up her entire length, drinking in the sweetness of her overwhelming arousal. The needy sound Kate makes is music to his ears. He can't believe how vocal she can get, how completely free, uninhibited she lets herself be with him. He wants to work the rest of his life to tear those sounds from her throat. He repeats the move and there's that sound again, even louder. He can't resist moving up to the tiny bundle of nerves at her center, gathering it in his tongue and sucking it between his lips. Her hips buck under him and a strangled "Castle…" hits his ears. Her heels dig forcefully into his back but he barely feels it, consumed by her, the look of her, the taste, the smell, the feel.

His lips release her, retreat to her silky wet folds, tugging, licking, sucking every little bit of her that he can. Her strong hand pushes at his head, grips his hair so tight but Castle doesn't give in. He'd let go earlier, and look what had happened. His daily allowance of "Letting go" was more than spent. He'll take his time now, try to make amends for earlier, thought he knows he'll never be able to.

The way Kate is moaning above him tells him she is decidedly _not_ dwelling on the past. She is as entrenched in the moment as she possibly could be. Her glistening thighs prove that. A fresh wave pours out of her as he brushes his lips over her clit again. Her death grip on his hair loosens, lets go, and he knows she's realized she can't persuade him to go faster.

He pulls back from her, watches as her arm trails lazily up and over her head, feathering over her breast along the way, tugging at her rosy nipple. A devious smile spreads across her face as she stretches her arms above her and his mouth goes dry as her body undulates, muscles rippling beneath tanned skin. He uses his hands to push himself up onto his knees, her legs still over his shoulders but easily stretching to accommodate. Castle is continually amazed, and awed, at how flexible she was. Much to the benefit of them both.

He has to bite the inside of his cheek as he looks down at her, spread across his bed like a Goddess on display.

For him.

If he didn't bite his cheek he'd start speaking, he knows, and he wouldn't be able to stop. He'd just keep trying, futilely, to express how much he loves her. No matter what prowess he sometimes has with words, there were no words, no phrases, to describe how desperately he needs her. How she, as cheesy as it is, completes him.

Words aren't enough so he uses his mouth for other things. To try his damndest to physically show her what she means to him, to thank her for everything she's given him. He is always overwhelmed by how actively she responds to his attempts at expression in this form. She always "expressed" right back, giving as good as she got.

Like right now.

His lack of movement spurs her to open her eyes. The look she gives him, her luminous hazel eyes, forces the very breath from his lungs.

"Goddamnit Kate," he swears.

She frowns.

"You are so _freaking_ gorgeous!"

She smiles shyly and it makes it even worse.

"Just the hottest, sexiest, most… I mean… You're seriously going to give me a heart attack one of these days."

"Well then," she purrs, stretching once more, purposely teasing him with her perfect body and husky voice. "We better make every moment we have together count them, hmm?"

How true that is.

And she rolls her hips, using her strong legs and core muscles to pull him to her until he can feel her, slick against his chest. She takes her lip between her teeth, squeezing her eyes shut as she arches her back, pushing herself even further up, until her thighs brackets his face and her sex is pressed against his lips. He hears her moan as she rubs against him and that's it.

He's done.

His hands slide over her thighs and he pulls her down, lets himself fall to the bed. His tongue slips into her as she hits the mattress and bounces.

"Oh god," she cries throatily, her hands flying back to his hair.

He devours her then, drinks her in and swallows her whole. All his love and passion pour into her, a blinding torrent, focused solely on her pleasure. The house could fall down around them and he wouldn't know, lost in the sweet, musky, beautiful, delicious world of Kate.

She keens and cries and writhes and it only drives him on, relentless in the pursuit of breaking her down. One lick, one suck, one twist of his tongue at a time.

Castle doesn't use his fingers. He could; he knows she likes it. Hasn't really discovered anything she doesn't like from him, but he doesn't want to use them now. She'd confessed, one last night after several glorious hours, that his hands entrance her. The hands that have written her favourite books, brought her coffee, tried to push her out of the way of a bullet, and shot bullets themselves. But right now, in this moment, he needs her to feel his words from his mouth, speaking his love soundlessly into her, transmuting his love directly into her skin.

Her skin that is flushed, pink with passion as her legs begin to tremble. Her fingers slip in his hair, lose purchase as her control begins to slip, her motor functions gone, everything lost but the ability to _feel_.

"Yes, Castle…" she hisses. "God please, _more_!"

His tongue thrusts in, long and thick and hot, caressing her, finding all her secrets and making them his, _theirs_.

"Fuuu…" She's cut off, choking on the curse as his mouth stretches, spreads wide, takes her completely in, enveloping her clit and sending stars shooting across the darkness behind her closed lids.

She opens them briefly, looking down at him. The sight of him cradled between her legs, so fiercely focused on her, devoted to her, forces another cry from her throat. The cry is hoarse, and her head thrashes on the pillow, her eyes slamming shut again.

His name becomes a mantra, sprinkled with more "Yes'es" more "God's" and a few, throaty, uninterrupted "Fucks".

Castle's head is swimming, seeped in her essence, reveling in the effect he has on her. His hands grip her hips tightly, holding her down as he pushes further, deeper, and oh god his _teeth,_ scraping and biting.

"Castle," she moans, "Rick _please_!" and he's moving towards her clit, humming against her skin, the low timbre vibrating _straight_ through her and he knows she's waiting for it… waiting…

But it doesn't come.

He's stopped. Completely.

Her eyes pop open, connect with his in utter disbelief as he stares up at her, breathing hard.

"No," she whispers, trying to be firm. But her voice is raw and wanton. He still doesn't move.

"Please," she pants, canting her body towards him but he will not be swayed. He can see coherency return slowly to her eyes as the impending climax retreats, fades.

"Damnit!" Her head flops back to the pillow and she flings an arm across her face, covering her eyes as her chest heaves, drops of sweat pooling between her breasts. "You are cruel," she moans, her voice muffled by her arm. "Vindictive, vicious, vacillating villain."

He stutters a disbelieving, highly turned on groan. "If you can still use alliteration like that I've obviously been doing a terrible job."

"Not terrible," she shakes her head. "Good job. Very, very, very good job."

His ego swells for a moment before his brain catches up to him. "Did you seriously just say the word vacillating?"

"Castle, focus."

"Four syllables… at a time like this…"

"I'm not going to apologize for my brain's capacity to recover so quickly."

"So hot…" he begins to say, but then pauses and looks at her. "Kate. Do you just realize you issued me a challenge?"

She raises an eyebrow.

It's his brain racing now, calculating, scheming. "So before… talking about how you trust me…"

"I do," she says slowly. "If you want to do things your way, you can. You don't have to always follow what I say."

"So if one time we happen to be in, say, my living room, and the sudden urge for you takes over me, I can just bend you over the back of the couch and fuck you till all those four syllable words just melt away?"

Her eyes widen and she swallows thickly. "Umm…"

His hands tighten around her and that deep growl she discovered she likes so very much, returns. "Fuck you so hard you can't walk the next day?"

"Something like that… yeah," she breathes. "Yes," she repeats, nodding rather vigorously.

He opens his mouth to speak but she cuts him off.

"But that's for another day," she says. "For the moment, I believe you're already busy." Her eyes sharply move down her own body, indicating in no uncertain terms what she wants.

"You just said I don't have to do what you say," he smirks, his voice pitched low.

Her glare could level buildings. He wants so hard to resist her but feels his resolve quickly crumble. Damn! He doesn't _have_ to give in to her, but he _wants_ to. And there's nothing wrong with that, his inner alpha male tries to convince itself. He looks down her body. She's still gleaming in the candlelight, her sheen calling to him. Ah, to hell with it.

He repositions himself into a comfortable spot and lowers his head to her, lapping at the sweat between her breasts, latching onto a nipple and biting, hard, before moving down and losing himself once more in her searing heat. It takes no time at all to work her back up again. Her cries, curses and Castle's fill the air again, his new favourite song. He builds her up then lets her down once more. Before she can complain again he's back at it, tireless, wanting only to help her, this wild, untamed being, achieve her greatest heights.

Then he's biting down on her clit and for the second time that day he makes her scream. Her voice fills the room as her thighs clamp down on his head, nearly suffocating him, almost breaking his neck as he lets go of her hips and lets her fly.

When her inner muscles stop trying to squeeze the life from his tongue he gently pulls out. He listens attentively to every gasp, every nuance of her ragged breathing as he softly licks, soothing, helping her down. When her breathing finds a faint rhythm of normalcy he dives back in, furiously swiping at her and she squeals, her whole body jerking at the sudden assault on her over-stimulated nerves.

"No," she cries. "Shit, Castle, I can't…"

But he keeps going, doesn't let up, latches onto her clit until white light explodes in her mind, wiping away all thought, all knowledge, all reason. Kate doesn't scream this time, can't, no air in her lungs, her blood boiling and racing, a live-wire short circuiting. The pleasure is so searing it hurts, hurts so _fucking_ good, slicing through her, burning her alive. Castle keeps going until he feels her body shut down, incapable of feeling anything more and slumping to the bed in a sweaty heap, utterly and completely spent. He thinks she might have actually passed out and can't help the smug grin from gracing his features. He lifts his head from her, face shiny with her essence, flushed with excitement. He's on the verge himself just from being able to bring her such ecstasy. He slowly drags himself off of her, his limbs heavy, feeling like he'd just run a marathon. He lowers himself at her side, facing her. Her eyes are closed.

"Kate?" he whispers, reaching out to brush sweat soaked hair from her forehead, curling it around her ear. Her body shifts, head canting towards his hand but she doesn't speak and he's still not sure if she's conscious or not.

"Kate?" he tries again. She shifts again, nuzzling his hand and her eyes finally open.

The love, pure, true, that shines from her eyes is the single most amazing thing she's ever done for him, ever given him. Then her red lips mush together and curl into the most adorable, satisfied smile he's ever seen. She makes a noise, wordless, some kind of contented sigh as she shuffles her body towards him. The light shudder that wracks her body tells him how much effort it takes, how she's still feeling the after effects of his attentions. He lies down on his back, allowing her easier passage onto his chest. The detective manages to sprawl halfway onto him before giving up. He feels her smile against his chest, feels her try to kiss his skin but her body still before it happens.

He knows she's asleep now.

Castle wraps his arms around her, tucks her into him as closely as possible, breathing her deeply in. His eyes grow heavy as his hands skim over the soft skin of her back, tripping over the ridges of her spine. This is his favourite place to be. He could stay like this, wrapped up with her, forever.

He's sure as hell going to try.

* * *

_To Be Continued…_

* * *

**Author's notes:** So I'm not actually very happy with this chapter. It was supposed to be short and beautiful and sweet and then they started talking in the middle of it, and I don't like some of the phrasing/flow of some things and… well, I don't know. I can only hope you guys enjoyed it after the long wait; please let me know!

Sorry for the delay, btw. Life reared its big 'ole head and smacked me in the face with busyness! I have the next chapter already in the works, hoping to get posted by the weekend J If I survive "The Final Frontier" tomorrow, that is. I am seriously SUCH a scifi geek… Castle and rampant Geekdom TOGETHER might just finish me!


	5. Poolside

A/N: Warning… this gets rather filthy at times… I think? Well, it kind of always is when what happens in this chapter happens… at least I think so. I also had some requests for a lil bit of "dirty talk" which I've tried to incorporate. I've always had embarrassment issues with writing this stuff, haha, so I hope it's ok. Eeeep. This was also supposed to be a short chapter with only one main event, but somehow that didn't happen. More smut for youuuu.

* * *

Kate has been practically floating all morning. They'd cuddled when they woke up. She'd smiled at Castle when he brought her coffee. She'd kept on smiling through breakfast. Then she'd smiled again, wider than any before, and suggested they spend some time at the pool. That's when the suspicion started. The novelist is now standing in his swim shorts, poised at the door of the pool house, wondering if he's going to survive the morning. When Beckett gets inspired…

He takes a deep breath, girds his loins, and steps outside. He's momentarily blinded as the sun, beating powerfully from above and reflecting off the surface of his expansive swimming pool. The greenery surrounding it shines, vivid, and in the distance the ocean shimmers, sweeping outwards towards eternity. The air itself is fresh, clean, so unlike the clogging, heavy air of the city. Castle is used to the fumes of New York of course, sometimes even relishes the mix of concrete, gas and street food. But when he leaves, remembers the rest of the world isn't overrun with the side effects of urban paradise… It's a welcome change. He breathes deeply, relishing the faint tinge of salty ocean. The warm air fills his lungs and leaves him calm, happy, and at peace.

A splash interrupts his zen and his eyes snap to the pool. When his squinting eyes see past the glare and focus on what's in the pool, all the fresh air, the serenity, the peace, leaves his body in a rush, replaced with a thick heat.

She's not even naked or anything, but _hot damn_ his girlfriend is _fine_! Seriously, ridiculously attractive, both inside and out. Though it's the outer he's currently enjoying. A lot.

Kate is reclined on one of the floating loungers that stay in the storage shed most of the year. It's pure white. Combined with the bright sun and reflective pool it makes her lithe, tan body glow, radiant and pristine. He's amazed at how quickly she tans, the perfect skin tone to neither burn nor stay fair. The smooth, dark skin is lovingly enveloped in the most stunning bathing suit he's ever encountered. It's a rich, deep emerald that hugs her body in a downright sinful way. It's not even that skimpy but Holy Hannah… Definitely his new favourite swimwear of all time. The strap of the tops winds behind her neck, makes him want to follow its path with his fingers, wrap them around her neck, pull her in and kiss her till they pass out. Nestled between her breasts is a simple gold ring, keeping the two sides of her top together.

Her long, wavy hair fans out around her head like a chestnut coloured halo. Something sparks in his eye and his gaze drifts down. Her toes are sparkling purple. Have they been like that all weekend? He wants to suck them into his mouth, nibble, play with them. He's never been a foot fetish kind of guy but when it comes to her he wants it all. Her eyes are closed but the impish smile on her face tells him she knows he's there. They've always been in tune like that.

He quietly pads towards the side of the pool she's closest to. He's tempted to jump off and land a cannonball right next to her, knock her right off the lounger. It's what he'd do for anyone else but… She looks like something from a painting, a photograph, and he can't bring himself to ruin it. God, he really has turned soft. He contents himself with sitting down on the warm stone tiling, hot from the sun and rather uncomfortable but it's nothing compared to the heat she exudes. He dips his feet into the water, sighing at the cool relief. He swings them back and forth aimlessly as he watches her drift. When she gets too far she lets her hands fall into the water, paddling them gently until the lounger starts a meandering path back to him, unable to stay away.

Everything they've been through, they always find their way back to one another.

After a time, a soft sound fills the air. Holy crap… is she singing? He peers at her, assessing. Her mouth is barely moving but sure enough, a light music is swelling up from the long column of her throat and tickling the air. He's never heard her sing before, barely heard her hum; he finds himself entranced by it. It's quiet, very quiet, but it washes over him like a spell, holding him captive. She has an amazing voice. How did he not know this!? Her lips part and a few distinct words release, but he can't understand what she's saying… what language is that? The foreign sounds make the song all the more mysterious, alluring, beautiful. He could sit and listen to her for hours. After far too short a time, however, her voice gets softer and softer till there's only silence, and she opens her eyes. Oh god… the emerald of her suit, the sun, the white lounger… even the gold ring at her chest… they swirl together and enhance every feature; her eyes have never been so green, so bright. She could light up a city with the warmth, love and joy in those eyes. If it were possible for a human being to literally melt, Richard Castle would be dead right now.

Katherine Beckett wonders how she's not drowning right now. The way he's looking at her… God she really has gotten soft. She's okay with that, though, as long as only _he_ knows it. And even he shouldn't know the true extent of her mushy thoughts. Good lord, his ego…? She'd had enough mushy softness the night before when he'd worshipped her body like the planet was at stake and it was the only way to save the human race.

Kate wants the fun back, the levity, the state where they don't have to talk about feelings and boundaries and the future. She wants to live in the moment, make him crazy, and she knows just how to do it. She quickly paddles her way over to him, the lounger gently bumping against the wall of the pool.

"Hey," she grins up at him.

"Hey," he grins down at her.

She deftly slips off the lounger, sinking down into the cool water. She takes a moment to relish it's embrace before swimming up, closing her eyes as she breaches the water and the sun's glare hits her. She raises her hands to sweep the wet hair back from her face as she opens her eyes. Castle is staring down at her, eyes big as saucers. She can't tell if he's breathing or not and a wide grin splits her face.

"I'm having some major deja-vu here," he whispers.

Her mind flickers back to their trip to L.A. She's always wished she could have seen his face when she emerged from the pool.

"The situations are quite similar," she nods, placing her hands on his knees to keep herself afloat. He shivers as drops of water from her hands run down his legs. "Except for one, vital difference."

"What's that?" he says in a rough voice. She bites her lip and runs her hands up to the edge of his shorts, playing with the hem.

"You get to touch me this time."

She watches him swallow deeply, his pupils dilating even in the harsh sunlight.

"And…" she continues, licking her lips and sliding her hands further into his shorts, scratching at his skin. "I get to touch you."

He gulps again. "Yup. Yup you do."

She leans forward and presses a kiss to his knee. She can feel him clench underneath her and glances up. Yeah, he's definitely ready for some touching. She kisses him again, opens her mouth and lets her tongue trace him. She can hear his heavy exhales as she works her mouth up to her hands, sliding them out of his shorts. She burrows her nose and mouth just under the lining and breathes out hotly, the warm air flowing straight to his groin.

"Kate!" he squeaks above her.

She bites down and his leg jerks. She pulls herself away and looks up at him, her eyes hooded under thick, dark lashes.

"Lose the shorts," she commands.

He hurriedly pushes himself up off the ground, moving to stand, but she reaches out and grabs his hips, keeping him steady as she swiftly unties the laces at his front. As soon as she can her hands are underneath, squeezing his ass before grabbing the shorts and pulling them down. Seconds later the swim trunks are flung behind her, left to sway on the gentle waves Kate makes as she moves in the water. Castle sits back down on the ground, hovering just on the edge of the pool, his legs submerged in water almost up to his knees.

The detective wastes no time. She's been hungering for this for days and now that she has him in her sights she's going in for the kill. One hand stays on his knee for balance while the other wraps around the base of his throbbing arousal. She takes him in in one confident sweep, filling her mouth with his rigid length until she could feel him bump against the back of her throat. Castle gasps in shock, his legs tensing under her hands as a ragged groan sounds from above. She hollows her cheeks, sucking hard as she slides up his length, coating him in her saliva as her tongue presses against him. She revels in the taste of him, a drop of salty pre-come already beading. Her tongue swirls over his head when she finally makes it up his length. She feels him shift and opens her eyes. His arms are spread wide, hands flat on the stone as he leans back, trying to keep himself steady and upright. She lets her gaze travel up the broad, tanned expanse of his chest. Her mouth waters to taste that part of him too, explore every inch of skin but alas, his chest isn't on her mission list for this encounter. She could make up for that later. Her eyes finally make it to his, pinning him with her green stare. His blue depths are unfocused and hazy, completely overrun with lust. Kate grins, a self-assured smirk that makes him want her even more.

She keeps looking at him as she dives down, once again swallowing him whole. His eyes screw up in the corner, trying to stay open while they roll back in his head. She sucks hard but stays in place, immobile, taking a long moment to enjoy the throbbing heat of him, velvety skin encasing rock hard man. A rock hard man who is completely at her mercy. She doesn't want to take advantage of that right now, though. This wasn't going to be a long, drawn out tease-fest like she often enjoys doing. No, this is to show him that all he'd expressed last night was returned, in full. Beckett wasn't the only one with some walls in place. He'd broken through some of his the day before and she intended to keep them firmly down.

She releases the pressure of her cheeks and he lets out a stuttered breath. Her tongue leaves a slippery trail on him as she trails it up, a zig-zagging, random path that leaves him with no ability to prepare himself for what might come next. This time when she makes it to his tip she doesn't sink down again. Her hot mouth envelops his sensitive head only, wrapping her tongue around him and giving intermittent, little sucks. Like someone who's ice cream cone is melting, and they have to work their way around the cone to make sure no drips escape.

"Fuck, Kate…" he swears. A hand shoots to her hair, tangling in the wet strands but when her perfect white teeth start nipping at him, he slips. His hand shoots back to the tiles and he groans, wanting to touch her, hold her, haul her out of the water and bury himself in her. But he won't, he can't, too lost in the moment, her mouth interrogating his flesh until she gets his final confession. Pulls it, drags it out of him with her red lips, tricky tongue and wicked teeth.

She releases him with an obscene pop, licking her lips, her eyes hooded as she looks at him. The water's reflections swirl and shimmer over her skin and she looks ethereal, like an angel… a smoking hot angel with a ridiculous talent at gifting pleasure. Her eyes finally break from his as she lets go of his knee, one hand still gripping the base of his straining erection. Her body sinks down until she wraps her free hand around his calf, stopping her descent. She snags the skin of his thigh, pulling the skin with her teeth as her head moves closer to him. She lets go of his tortured skin when her nose brushes his erection. Her mouth opens up and he sees a flash of her glistening tongue before she's wrapped around his balls, sucking them into her mouth one at a time and rolling them around, Her hand suddenly squeezes his shaft and he gasps, forgets how to breathe as the hand starts to pump, up and down, twisting, soft then hard, continuing the unpredictable pattern.

When Kate's had her fill she moves her mouth back to his length, small, open mouthed kisses starting at the bottom and working to the top. His abs clench at every touch, sweat that isn't caused by the summer's heat coating his body. Damn was she good at this. He'd been with women who enjoyed the act, but with Kate he could tell it was more than that. She loved it because she was doing it for _him_. Giving him pleasure got her off and that knowledge made Castle enjoy it even more.

"Kate," he murmured, voice shaky but encouraging. "How are you so good… at…" he cuts off on a groan when she does this thing with her hand and her mouth, working in unison. Then her other hand moves from his calf to join its mate, working its way under him until she finds his perineum and strokes and hoooly shit stars burst behind his eyes. Then it's all her mouth again, consuming him. And then her voice, her sweet, beautiful voice is singing against him, wordless and muffled by his arousal but he feels the notes vibrate through him, his blood catching fire, leaping with every change in tone, note, volume. It's the best love song he's ever heard and suddenly he knows he's not going to last much longer. His lack of endurance would be embarrassing if it were anyone but Kate in front of him. He kind of suspects this is her plan. No dilly-dallying, just straight up, fierce, erotic, blinding pleasure, an outpouring of her feelings for him.

"Kate, I don't think I can… I'm not gonna last…"

She pulls off him for a moment. Her voice is husky and divine. "Let go, Castle. Never hold back with me. Just let go."

Then she's back on him, her humming turns to groans, deep and guttural, like he's the most delicious thing she's ever tasted. The hand on his calf moves roughly up to his hip, gripping him hard and pulling on him. Castle's eyes almost pop from his head. Holy shit, is she giving him permission to…?

He grips the stone tiles beneath his hands and experimentally flexes his hips, thrusting forward into her mouth. She moans loudly, nodding her head and damn if that simple movement doesn't feel amazing too. His eyes want to close but he keeps watching her, her red lips stretched around him, his erection covered in her saliva as she bobs up and down, little waves of pool water rippling away from her. He flexes and thrusts again, bumping against the back of her throat. He opens his mouth to see if she's ok with that but her hands are gripping tighter and her mouth grows frantic, frenzied. Oh god she really is the perfect woman. He thrusts again and doesn't stop, her mouth moulding around him, accommodating and complimenting his every move as he begins the final climb.

They work together, give and take and then oh god he is _right_ there, right on the edge and he wants to ask, one last time, if this is ok. He's finished in her mouth before, but only once, and he wasn't sure at the time what she'd thought of that. But her words last night… "If you want to fuck me against a fridge then do it." _Use me for your pleasure.._. He decides to try his luck, trust her word.

"Kate," he chokes, giving a hearty thrust in warning. The hand at his hip shoots between his legs, massaging his sensitive balls, and then her teeth are… oh, oh god…

He slides a hand back, shifts all his weight onto it, and lets his other fly to her. This time, as he buries his hand in her hair, grips the nape of her neck and pulls her forwards as he thrusts into her willing, pliant mouth, he doesn't slip.

He moves with abandon, plunging into her mouth as he works her head and its thrust, thrust, two more thrusts before the sun explodes behind his eyes, ecstasy slamming into him like a truck, shooting up his spine and paralyzing for a single, breath-taking moment. He grits his teeth, wills his eyes to open to witness the incredible sight of Kate, working him like it's the last thing she'll ever do, milking every last drop from him, coaxing every last nerve to work overtime, heightening and prolonging his pleasure as long as possible.

Her eyes are closed, face screwed up in concentration as she tries to swallow all he has to give but despite her efforts, some of his climax slips from her full cheeks, dripping from her lips and down his length. He can see her throat working rhythmically, fast as it can. When he's finally been sucked dry, heart beating out of his chest she stops her relentless torture. He breathes a sigh of relief but its short-lived as he watches her resume her attack, her pink tongue lapping at his essence, cleansing him of every last, creamy drop. She finishes back at his tip, her lips and tongue comforting, affection, wrapping around him for one last soft suck before pulling away and opening her eyes. His limbs have lost all feeling, limp and heavy in the aftermath as his hand slips free of her hair to fall useless at his side.

Castle's mouth opens and closes, gaping like a fish but no words come out. What could he possibly say? He knows how he felt last night, the desperation to show her the depth of his love. Looking at her now, he knows what he must have looked like, because everything he feels is shining right back at him through her green-gold eyes. She slowly licks her lips before they spread into a beaming grin, a corner of her bottom lip stuck between her teeth for a moment before popping free. He grins back at her, sure he looks like a dopey fool but he's high on her, the pleasure she brought him, the happiness she exudes.

He tries to talk again and finally his vocal cords comply. "Un-fucking-believable," he announces. Her smile gets even wider, splitting her face.

"Glad to hear it," she answers cheekily.

"God you're amazing," he breathes, a hand rising to scrub his face, push his hair away from his forehead.

"So are you," she says quietly. Her voice is deep, almost a little hoarse, from working her mouth and throat so hard. He'd normally react to that, shiver, have some dirty thoughts but the words themselves… Argh! Seriously! His heart can't take any more of this! He'd kind of been hoping to hear a certain three words from her this weekend but now he's glad he hasn't. He doesn't think he'll survive, his heart, body, soul, already bursting. But he's already said it, so he's allowed to say it again, right? He sits upright, hands splayed on the tile bracketing his thighs, and looks down at her. She looks up at him, still beaming.

"I love you so much," he says.

He soaks in the sight of her little gasp, the quick rise and fall of her chest, the breath that can't get past her throat. She closes her eyes and lets her forehead fall to his knee. It takes several breaths for her to steady herself, but when she looks back up at him the smile is back.

"C'mere," she says, stretching an arm up to cup his cheek. Her touch is cool, drops of water dripping down his face and neck but he obeys, leans down as she pushes herself out of the water to kiss him. He opens to her right away, pleading for her tongue and she complies, eagerly tangling with him in a deeply passionate kiss. Castle wraps his arms around her slick back, scooting forward as far as he dares while pulling her forwards, still between his legs, needing to be closer to her. Her damp bikini top brushes his chest and he shivers, groaning into her mouth.

"Mmm, Castle," she murmurs against his lips.

"What do you need?" he asks, claiming her bottom lip with his teeth.

"You," she exhales. "Always you."

He kisses her harder, hands gripping her waist tightly, keeping her afloat. But he needs more, and moves his lips to her jaw, her neck, sucking the taste of sweat and pool water from her golden skin. He feels the vibrations of her throat as she moans, arms wrapping around his neck, fingers gripping his hair. He anchors her with his left arm and lets his right drift up her side, playing with the thin bikini strap at her back. Her breath quickens but he doesn't pull the string. He moves his hand to her front, palming her left breast lightly before slipping his fingers under the cup and wrenching it aside. He hauls her further up out of the pool as he bends over and his head descends, pulling her tight nipple into his mouth. It's cool from the water but heats quickly in the cavern of his mouth as his tongue worships it. Kate's hands tug at him, pressing him to her.

"More!" she pleads.

He scrapes his teeth over the soft, sensitive skin and she keens. He lets go of the bathing suit as his mouth travels to her other breast, quickly shoving that side away and greedily sucking her other sweet bud. His hand skims down her side, falling into the water and boldly slipping beneath her bottoms and squeezing her perfect ass. She pants against his mouth, trying to climb up his legs, out of the water, but it's too slippery, he's too close to the edge.

"Kate, stop, I'm gonna fall!"

"Don't care," she grunts against him.

"Mmph, no, Kate..."

"Just come in," she persists.

"Oh I intend to come, don't worry. In _you_."

She chokes on his tongue and pulls away. Her eyes are blazing, three shades darker now.

"Stand up," she commands, her voice deep.

He reluctantly lets go, shimmies backwards a bit before scrambling upright. The detective plants her hands on the tiles and stares him down while she emerges from the water, the muscles in her toned arms tensing as her legs leave the water, rise over the edge to frame her arms. She extends her arm forward like a cat stretching out, preparing to pounce and the sight of her lithe, glistening body, backlight by the summer sun is straight out of a glorified Hollywood movie. Or a porno. Fuck she's hot. She gracefully rises up, standing tall and starting towards him. He unconsciously takes a step backward. A dirty little chuckle escapes her as she reaches up and pulls some wet strands of hair from her face, running her fingers down the back of her head. Castle loves when she plays with her hair.

He feels a sudden obstruction behind him and whips around. He's backed up all the way to the covered sitting area, the edge of the coffee table digging into his side. By the time he turns around she's on him, grabbing his hips with purpose and forcing him to the side.

"Walk," she commands, and she's pushing him forwards. He's pushed and prodded, her touch burning his skin until he's standing in front of the coffee table, facing the small patio couch. She shoves and he falls back, sitting on the table. He frowns and lunges forward, hands reaching for her but she slaps them away.

"Watch, Castle," she purrs, and he looks up at her, slack-jawed.

"But I can help," he complains. He wants to touch her, tease her, please her. As much as he'd like to delve deep into her it's barely been a few minutes since his mind-blowing orgasm and he's not quite ready for another round.

"No help," she shakes her head and steps away from him, climbing backwards onto the little couch. She rises up on her knees and fixes her hair again, her arms stretching above her head and the pornographic tableaus continue. He grips the edge of the table tightly; worried he'd be bouncing up and down like an excited little boy else wise.

Kate grins at him and slides her hands down her body, gasping as she brushes over her breasts. The bikini has fallen back into place but the shape of her perky nipples stand out through the dark green. Her long fingers move confidently over her flat stomach, wasting no time as she slips a hand beneath the edge of her bottoms. Her mouth falls open as she feels her first touch, glancing over her sensitive mound before dipping a finger between her folds.

"Yes..." she moans.

He's transfixed by the sight of her slim wrist, the shape of her hand hidden from view but doing exactly what he wishes he could.

"Off, Kate," he growls. "Take them off."

Her hand flies out of the bottoms and to the thin ties at the sides, its opposite doing the same. With a flourish she undoes both sides in one move, the suit slowly peeling off her body. With what is definitely a giggle, she tosses them at him. He tries to catch them but his reflexes are slow, sluggish, his body still lethargic from release and he only manages to divert their path. They fall to the ground and lie forgotten.

Kate's fingers are already back between her legs, the legs that are sliding further apart on the cushions.

"Look at me, Castle," she directs, her hands falling to her knees and caressing up her inner thighs. "Look at what you do to me."

Her sex is pink and shiny, the evidence of her arousal clear to him.

"Just from touching you," she continues, dragging her middle finger through her folds, parting them. "Just from tasting you. God, it makes me so hot, Castle."

He groans, strained, wondering if he's ready for her after all.

"Do you know how many times," she says, her finger circling around her clit. "For how many _years_ I would do this while thinking about you?"

"Tell me, Kate," he whispers.

Her finger moves back to her opening and dips inside. Her legs quiver.

"I lost count," she confesses, pushing the finger in as far as it could go. She's silent for a minute, working her opening before adding a second finger, stretching herself.

"Sometimes," she starts up again, "I'd be reading your books."

The writer swears under his breath.

"Your words would flow over me like a physical force, an actual touch, making me tingle and squirm."

She's squirming now, arching until her back hits the back of the couch, her hips thrust prominently forward. Her unoccupied hand drifts upwards to grasp the top of the couch beside her head.

"Then I'd get to a Nikki and Rook scene... when they make love..."

Her thumb moves to brush her clit and she winces.

"I would only ever see us, Rick. Always us. And I wanted it to be real _so badly_."

"So did I," he nods. "I tried not to, tried to keep you and Nikki separate, respect your wishes but..."

"It's ok," she forgives. "I kind of always figured that was the case."

"Am I so transparent?"

She laughs and it warms him. "I know you, Castle. I was always able to tell."

He frowns and shifts uncomfortably.

"It was cute," she grins, her tongue peeking out as she bites it lightly.

He makes a noncommittal sound, distracted by the third finger plunging into her silky depths, sinking in and out.

"Oh god," she whimpers. The thrill of knowing he's watching makes everything so much more intense, so visceral.

"So beautiful, Kate." He wonders that the fireplace off to the side doesn't ignite into a roaring inferno, sparked by her fire.

Her vocabulary descends into the realm of moans and sighs, working herself furiously, digging her heel into her bundle of nerves. She rests her head on the couch and moves her left hand down her neck to her chest, pulling a breast from her bikini and rolling her nipple, tugging and pulling, The sensation shoots straight to her core and her hips buck forward.

"Castle," she pants.

"I'm here," he answers, sitting forward on the table, pulling it forward so he's as close to her as can be without touching her, ruining the show she wants to give him.

"Castle!" she pants again, her tone becoming frantic.

"Do it, Kate, come on, you're so close."

"Almost there," she rasps, her hand making slippery sounds as she pounds into her own body, squeezing her nipple tight.

"Just let go, baby, please. Come for me."

She thrusts against her hand, arousal coating her thighs and with the help of his voice she finally finds release. A keening cry bursts forth as her body seizes, glorious liquid pleasure surging through her veins, her core muscles rippling and clenching. She finally collapses against the couch, sweaty and spent but thoroughly satisfied. Her eyes open to the sight of Castle giving her the sexiest, smirking smile she's ever seen. She grins right back.

"Did you like that?" she teases.

"You have no idea," he shoots back.

She slips her hand from between her legs and raises it to her lips to slowly suck her pointer finger into her mouth, moaning at the taste of her pleasure. But then she stops for no apparent reason. Her finger leaves her mouth and she pins him with a glare.

"Did you just call me _baby_?"

His eyes grow wide. "Oh, um…"

Her glare continues to burn.

"Woops?"

She lifts an eyebrow and it's his turn to frown.

"Actually you know what, no, no woops. Yes, I called you baby. You, evil seductive vixen that you are, were getting yourself off in front of me, rather spectacularly, and being not in control of my faculties, a term of deep seated endearment slipped from my mouth."

Her eyes soften just a bit.

"It was not meant to be in any way demeaning or insulting, it just… slipped out." He shrugs. "But if you really have an issue with it I'll try to avoid it from now on."

Her glare disappears as her nose scrunches up in thought.

"I've never allowed a boyfriend to call me baby before," she tells him with a faint tone of disgust for the term. "But then again…" Her slender finger skips back up to her mouth, her tongue peeking out to lick at the pad. "None of them were you."

He growls and lunges forward off the table, his large body crowding her against the back of the couch as he grabs her hand, rips her finger from her mouth and takes it in his own. He cleans all three of the digits she used before moving to her palm, her wrist. She's gasping as he does, rattling off a quick "Just don't let it happen too often."

When he's content that she's clean he pins her hand to the back of the couch and kisses her. By the time he's finished ravaging her mouth they're both breathless, bodies unconsciously moving to press together, searching for something to touch, appease the ache they both feet. He finally fits between her legs, grinding forward and she moans deeply, their naked centers brushing against each other.

Castle wraps an arm around her hips, another around her shoulders and spins them until she's on her back, spread across the soft couch cushions. Her legs automatically wrap around him. The couch is small and it's hard to coordinate their long bodies but they're nothing if not stubborn. If they want something, nothing can get in their way, and right now Castle wanted Beckett, and Beckett wanted Castle. Small couch be damned, within seconds he'd buried himself within her, twin gasps breaking through the quiet breeze.

They didn't take their time, there was no need for build-up. It was so very simple to just find a rhythm, pound into one another, glory in the feeling of being joined, being one. Castle gropes at her chest blindly, fumbling around to her back until he finds the strap of her top. He pulls at it desperately, rips the cover off and then there's nothing but skin. Warm flesh gliding against warm flesh as the wet slap of their bodies competes with their cries.

They finish at the same time, tumbling towards bliss in a symphony of fervent exclamations.

They lie together, silently, for a good time after, until their heartbeats stop racing and the sweat dries sticky on their skin.

Castle finally moves them, shifting so he's on the bottom while Kate drapes herself over him. He gathers her up and buries his head in the crook of her neck.

"You are incredible," he breathes, kissing her skin softly. She sighs and lays a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"You're incredible," she smiles.

"We're The Incredibles?" he gasps, framing her head with his hands and pulling her away from him. She giggles down at him before a serious look comes over her face. She ponders a moment.

"I could see you in that spandex suit, yeah," she nods, smiling cheekily.

"And I can see _you_ in one too," he leers. "You're certainly as flexible as her."

"Hmm," her eyes crinkle at the compliment and she drops a kiss to his nose.

"Well one thing I know for certain we have in common with The Incredibles, and all other people, superpowers or not," she says, deftly rolling off of him, "Is the necessity of hygiene. I need a shower!" She stands up and stretches, a few joints popping. Her lean, naked body will never fail to astound him. She turns and starts walking away.

"Not without me," he states, standing up and striding after her, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

"You never tire of shower sex, do you?" she laughs, shaking her head in wonder.

"It's not the shower, Kate," he says. "It's you."

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

Ok I have to tell a story of the writing of this… My life is nutso lately but I always have the urge to write. So I says to myself "Bring the laptop to work and just hide in a corner" so that's what I try. But then, well, it's work, so obviously I can't actually hide anywhere, and there are two men flanking me the entire time. While I'm writing _this_. The *whispers* bj stuff. I basically folded my laptop screen halfway down so no one could see it (Including me, which led to many unknown spelling woopsies… yeah, editing was fun) but anyways, I'm feeling dreadfully illicit the entire time, eyes flicking about in a paranoid fashion the whole day. And THEN someone brings everyone warm sausage rolls as a snack. No joke. And I'm starving and can't resist. So I'm sitting between two men I barely know eating a warm sausage roll and trying to write this. Oy. *shakes head*

Also: When Kate climbs up on the couch? If you had a vision of Stana's season 5 promo pic, on that couch, just in a hot bikini instead... yup, that's what I saw while writing it, too.

Finally: I will never be able to watch "The Incredibles" in the same way again. Woops. But seriously, crime fighting, bickering couple who really do just love each other? And then have a couple super-babies? Yeah. Caskett.

Btw I'm planning only one more chapter to this story (Then an epilogue) But I have NO idea what I want the final chapter to be like. Anything you all are dying to see? Please let me know :)


	6. Shower

They ended up skipping the sex part of the shower after their escapades by the pool. As much as they wanted to, they weren't physically capable of making love every second of every day. The couple had simply stood under the water, gently cleansing each other's skin with the shampoo and body wash Castle kept stocked in the large bathroom. Beckett had thought about bringing her own, knowing Castle liked the scents, but she also suspected he liked her smelling like _his_ bath products more. When they eventually bedded down for the night and he held her close, burying his face in her hair and inhaling deeply, she knew she was right. Just like when she wore his shirts, some primal instinct, some pride in marking her as his, filled him.

They'd fallen asleep discussing inane little things that didn't matter, the subject unimportant so long as they were talking _together_, in each other's arms, in the same bed, breathing the same air. Around two o'clock Beckett had startled into conciousness, the call of an unfamiliar seabird waking her. She'd woken Castle with her mouth and they stayed awake for another two hours, relishing in their final night of vacation.

It's now 10am, and they're already late leaving. Reluctance is heavy in the air, breakfast a slow affair, drawn out by feeding each other berries, pouring their coffee at a glacial pace. They knew the faster breakfast went, the sooner they'd have to say farewell to the bubble of tranquility that the weekend had been. Castle had actually managed to get Kate out of the house a few times and the detective had been completely charmed by the local culture. Due in no small part to the enthusiasm with which her debonair tour guide regaled her.

But all that was done and over with. Bags were packed, a car loaded, and reality eagerly awaited them.

Kate fiddles with the handle of her coffee mug, chewing her lip and frowning slightly as she stares into the dark swirl at the bottom of her cup. Castle unknowingly mimics her, his frown lines a little deeper.

"I don't want to go back," she admits quietly.

He glances up at her and gives a sad smile. "Me neither."

"Think they'd notice if I happen to not come back for another week? Or five?"

"Or forever?"

She inhales sharply.

"Already tried to resign, remember? Didn't work out so well."

"Alas."

They're quiet again.

Castle knows that Beckett is the more responsible of the two. She'll be the one to insist they finally get going but he's not going to do anything to expedite that. He stubbornly stays still, trying to make the moment last. He sighs when he sees her open her mouth to speak.

"I don't like feeling grungy during a long car ride."

He raises an eyebrow. "Ok…"

"I wouldn't mind taking a shower before we leave."

Oh.

His eyes widen in hope and a smile cracks her face.

"Come on," she says, suddenly giddy as she stands and holds out a hand to him.

He flies out of his seat to take it, almost giggling out loud at the rush of happiness that fills him. Just a little more time in his home-away-from-home, and it had been _her_ idea. They make it to the shower in record time despite the stumbling and tripping along the way as they pull and tear at each other's clothes. He has a standing shower that's large enough to fit a group of people if needed, with a broad showerhead on all three sides, creating an all-encompassing spa type feel. Kate takes a step in to turn the nozzle, leaning slightly, water cascading from the walls. It's definitely one of Castle, and now Kate's, favourite indulgences. Castle happily takes the opportunity to stare at her naked backside, his hands gravitating towards it, spanning the smooth skin before squeezing.

"Like what you see?"

She didn't turn around but he can hear the smirk in her voice. He answers by stepping forward and wrapping his arms around her, the evidence of how much he likes what he sees pressed against her.

"You could say that," he murmurs into her ear, taking the lobe between his mouth and sucking. She shivers against him and leans back, her hands covering his on her stomach. She feels him grin against her ear before she's suddenly falling forward, a hefty push from behind propelling her into the still cold spray.

"Hey!" she shrieks, and he cackles in glee.

"Woopsies."

"Woopsies my ass," she grunts, wiping hair back from her face but staying in the spray which is warming by the second.

"I couldn't help it Beckett," he shrugs. "I like it when you're wet."

A devastatingly sexy look comes over her face. "I know," she nods. "It's a good thing you don't know that every time you step into the precinct I get wet for you. I wouldn't want you to be distracted at work."

"Damn it Kate, you can't say things like that!" he whines, stepping forward into the deluge.

"I'm afraid I just did."

"That's all I'm going to be able to think about now. Every time I step off the elevator I'm going to be looking for you, smelling you, wanting you."

"I thought you did that already?"

He pauses and pretends to look deeply thoughtfully. "True."

"Well then there's no harm done."

He advances again, crowding her against the back wall as he reaches behind to slide the glass door shut. "I'm still blaming you if I get distracted and accidentally blow up a printer or something."

"I wish there was something else you could blow at the precinct."

"My my, Detective," he croons, hands coming up to frame her slim waist. "We are in top form this morning."

She glances down and licks her lips. "I'm not the only one."

He laughs and dips his head to kiss her. Her arms wrap eagerly around him, pressing tight as their tongues slip and slide.

"I love kissing you," he moans between touches. Kate makes a noise and kisses him harder, her hands rising up along his slick back to the hard muscles of his shoulders. She squeezes him in warning before she jumps. He catches her thighs as she wraps her long legs around him, grinding her hips forward.

"Woah… somebody's eager!"

"Gotta get my fill," she says leaning back. Her hands move to his chest, caressing, secure in the fact he'll keep her upright without her holding on, safe in his arms.

"I seriously don't know how I'm going to last entire days without kissing you," he complains.

"We did it for several weeks between the end of my suspension and now."

"And every second was torture."

"Well," she bites her lip and rubs her hips against his. "There is this one storage area on level two…"

His eyes grow dark. "You better not be messing with me."

"I'm serious. No one ever uses it."

"Why not?"

She shrugs. "The old maintenance guy used to use it but when he passed away, the next one just… never took it over."

"So it's like a standing shrine to him? You want to desecrate a sacred room?"

"Castle," she admonishes. "It's not sacred, it's just abandoned."

"So it could be full of creepy crawly things!"

She catches his bottom lip between her teeth. "The only thing that's gonna be crawling in there is me, over you."

He tilts forward, his body aligning perfectly with hers, skin to skin. "You know," he muses, a hand leaving her thigh to drift up her side, wandering over to her breast and tweaking a nipple. "You may have initially caught my attention with your hot body." He twists again and her head falls back against the wall. "But it's your amazing, amazing mind that kept me coming back."

"Glad to know I'm not just a piece of ass."

"Oh you're still that." The hand swoops down to palm said anatomy, making her gasp, arousal and steamy hot water making her skin blush pink. "But your mind… besides the obvious brilliance, I sometimes wonder if your dirty gutter mind might rival my own."

"Oh Castle," she shakes her head on a laugh. "If only you knew."

"I'm happy to spend the rest of my days trying to find out."

She stills for a moment, her elegant hand rising to cup his face, stroke her thumb over his cheekbone. She pulls him in and he's lost to her taste. It's a natural progression when her hand skims down between them to grab him in her hand. He doesn't even need to pull away to position himself correctly, push forward and slip into her waiting heat. A groan vibrates between them, the feeling so right, like they were doing what they were born to do.

Steam billows around them in gentle clouds, slowly rising streams of crystalline water, the heat making things slow, lethargic. The entire thing is like a hazy, wonderful dream. The water pounding down on them eases muscles that are sore from all their weekend activities and makes their bodies soft and malleable once more, molding to each other. Kate's lips trail away to his jaw and down his neck, nibbling on the area where his neck meets his shoulder. She makes her way up to his ear.

"So good, Castle," she whispers.

His hips jerk forward.

"Yes," she nods, her wet hair sticking to the side of his face.

"Hold onto me," he commands, and she complies. His hands leave her thighs and run up her back, tracing her spine. He grasps her firmly and pushes his torso off of her, the connection at their hips never breaking. His eyes lock with hers for a moment before meandering down, tracing little, clear rivulets as they smooth down her chest. He leans down and catches one on his tongue, robbing it of its path but taking the task upon himself, following the outline of her breast. Her small nipples are dark and pert, the shock of the cold water when he pushed her in leaving her wired and sensitive. He laps at it gently, reveling in her little gasps and moans. When they grow louder, higher pitched, his mouth grows wide and envelops it, sucking softly at the tender skin. He feels a hand tangle in his hair, not forcing him closer, just holding him steady.

"I wish…" she pants above him. "Wish there was a shower in that storage closet."

He laughs, his hot breath scorching her skin.

"Mmhmm," he agrees, lips and tongue travelling over to her other breast.

"Next time we come here we need to try out the Jacuzzi tub. I love jets."

He pulls away from her slippery nipple with a wet pop.

"How did we not get there this time?" he asks, eyes a little dazed with lust and wonder.

"Little busy with the library. And the bed. And kitchen. And pool. And…"

"Oh, right," he remembers with a grin. "Good times."

"The best," she nods.

He gazes at her, eyes hooded as he rolls his hips. Her eyes flutter shut as a noise emanates from the back of her throat. He does it again and she escalates to a full on groan, her delicate features twisting in pleasure. Her arms move down his waist so her hands can grasp at his hips, his backside, tugging.

"More," she whispers.

She loves the feel of his ass muscles clenching and squeezing as he starts to build power, his feet firmly grounded on the shower floor. Her body begins to bounce with the force of him, back hitting the cool tiles of the wall on every thrust. She brings a hand up to his chest, stroking his pecs, scratching lightly down the smooth skin, playing with his nipple.

"Oh my gooood," she drawls when he circles his hips, pubic bone hitting her right where she needs it most. His head falls to her shoulder, falling to the side until his lips can find her neck, her skin tasting pure and clean.

They build slowly, no longer worrying over having to leave, just lost in one another, the world and its troubles sluicing away with the water spiraling down into the drain. Kate comes with a long, light moan and a sigh, waves of bliss running through her at a bone deep but leisurely pace. Moments later Castle joins her, pushing her hard against the wall, the responsibility of keeping her warm body safe the only thing keeping him on his feet as he pours into her.

She nuzzles him softly when she's ready to stand again and he carefully lowers her, already missing the feel of her legs around his waist. Before she can speak he claims her mouth, his talented tongue working to sooth and calm the heartbeat he can feel racing just under the surface of her skin. Their high dwindles. Beckett is rather impressed that the water is still running hot after all this time. She's surprised that it's Castle who breaks through the silence.

"We should actually wash up," he suggests.

"I suppose," she hums, swiping her tongue across his lips.

"Seriously," he urges, but he kisses her anyways. He keeps one arm anchored around her while the other reaches blindly for his plain white loufa and the bottle of body wash.

"Want me to do your hair?"

"No," she regretfully declines. "I'd probably end up falling asleep. Your scalp massages are pure sin."

He smile softly and brings his treasures with him as he wraps his second arm around her. Using both hands he dollops a portion of the light blue soap onto the loufa and lathers it quickly. Kate sighs when he touches it to her skin, her head falling forward onto his shoulder as she relaxes, lets him wash her back in long, even strokes. He moves up to her shoulders and down her arms before running down her bum, kneeling in front of her to find every inch of her mile-long legs. He clasps her calf and helps her foot off the ground, resting it on a bent knee while he massages the sudsy cleasner over her ankle, her arches. She has to lean against the wall, reeling from the exquisite feel. She makes running in heels look easy but it really does take its toll on her feet.

Her blood sings when he makes his way up her inner thighs but his touch stays gentle, fleeting, not lingering at the apex. He finishes quickly, rubbing her stomach and gently kneading her breasts before her makes it to her neck. The loufa gently circles up to her chin before he lets it fall to the ground. His eyes pierce through her as his hand comes up to her jaw, sliding down her neck, wiping away the little bubbles. She smiles faintly at him, lightheaded with a torrent of emotion. This man makes her feel more in an hour than any other had in the space of weeks, months. A light kiss to her lips brings a close to her cleansing.

She kneels in front of him now, eyes diverting when she comes to his waist, lest she get any ideas and they're delayed even further. She finds the loufa and starts at his feet, treating him to every tender touch he gave to her. When she finishes she gently places the supplies back where they came from then pulls her lover into her embrace. They hold each other until they arrive at an impasse; if they don't stop now, they will surely end up going for more, which is fine with them… but they do know they have to get going. Castle had told his family they'd be back around 3 and it was already 2:45. Granted, the Castle women will probably cackle in glee when they arrived a few hours late, but they didn't need to exacerbate it by being half a day late. Kate feels the beginnings of embarrassment already burn through her at the thought. Castle seems to sense her discomfort and pulls back, cradling her face.

"What's wrong?"

"Just thinking about our impending walk of shame."

To his credit, the writer tries to contain his grin. He fails miserably, and Kate bites the inside of her cheek to stop herself from telling him how cute it is.

"You may be walking, my dear…" he strokes her face tenderly. "But I will be strutting."

She pulls completely out of his arms with an exaggerated eye roll. "Oh god..."

"What? I can't help it. I spent the weekend with the most gorgeous cop to ever walk the Earth!"

"I'm going to ignore the blatant hyperbole there and ask a serious question."

"No hyperb…!"

"Will you be able," she interrupts, "to function properly at the precinct?"

He makes a "Are you kidding" face and she rolls her eyes again.

"I'm serious Castle. They know I was away with my boyfriend this weekend and if we _both_ show up looking like cats who got the cream…"

"Oooh, whipped cream!" he sighs dreamily.

"And my point is made."

She moves to open the door but he grabs her waist and stops her.

"Kate, I'm not going to give us away. Don't worry."

She turns around and sees his handsome face calm and serious.

"I know what's at stake."

She ducks her head. "I know you do."

She looks up and the seriousness is now chased with a dash of pouting. She laughs, shakes her head, and kisses him. When they part he finally lets her exit the shower. He quickly follows, grabbing a thick towel from the rack beside the shower and holding it out for her.

"But when we do eventually tell everyone," he warns as he wraps her in the plush material, patting her dry, "All bets are off. Once the world knows that I'm with Katherine Beckett, I'm going to shout it out at every single opportunity I get."

She knows she won't be able to dissuade him of that. "We'll deal with that when we get there," she concedes.

She might just do some shouting of her own.

Half an hour later they're dressed, dried, and on their way out the door when Castle suddenly exclaims so loudly that Kate jumps.

"OH MY GOD!"

She whirls around, heart in her throat, mind leaping to worst possible scenarios.

"We forgot to write in The Book!"

She chokes on her cry of "Are you ok?"

"Excuse me?" she frowns.

"The Book!" Castle grabs her hand and starts jogging in the direction of the library. "We always write in The Book before we leave. Highlights of the trip and stuff like that."

She freezes, stock still in the middle of the hallway. He's moving so excitedly his hand flies right out of hers.

"Beckett?" he questions, several steps down the hall by the time he halts his forward momentum.

"I, uh…" she stammers. "I think you should go ahead by yourself."

"Why!?"

"Well it's your tradition, and…"

"And I want it to be _our_ tradition now."

"Castle, please, I really think you should go look at The Book by yourself."

He's completely confused as he frowns at her.

"Please."

He senses the weight behind her words and slowly nods. "Okay?" before starting hesitantly towards the double doors.

Kate doesn't breathe until the doors close behind him. Her lungs don't seem to be working; she can only take short, gasping breaths as she backs herself against the wall, sagging lightly against it.

The Book.

_I love Richard Castle._

Kate had known in the back of her mind all weekend that this moment would eventually come but this morning she'd honestly forgotten. To be smacked in the face with it so suddenly… She was not prepared. She hated feeling so thrown, so out of control. Logically she knew nothing bad was going to happen but it was a big step for them. For her. She knew he would understand that she'd had to write it before she could say it out loud. The more she thinks it through, the calmer she becomes. She knows it's time, long past time, in fact, that she give him this, that she finally let him in this far. It's not like its big news anyways. She knows she's been making doe-eyes at him all weekend, and if the way she treated his body didn't scream her love... She hears the door handle rattle an instant before she watches it slowly turn. She unconsciously holds her breath as he walks out.

His gaze is on the floor and she bites her cheek to keep from saying something. He moves toward her silently, his head lifting but still not meeting her eyes. She studies his face, searching for any indication of what he's thinking. When he's right in front of her he doesn't stop, keeps moving forward until his arms are around her and she's surrounded by his rich scent, the feel of his broad body. His embrace is all-encompassing, hard yet gentle, tender yet fierce, and she realizes she's achieved something incredible today.

She made Richard Castle speechless.

Kate has to close her eyes against a sudden well of tears. She frowns at herself and buries her head further into his chest, his arms tightening around her. If she feels something drip from his own eyes onto her shirt she doesn't say anything. Finally, she feels a light kiss to her hair. He pulls away, grabbing her hand in the process. She can't decipher all the emotions swimming through his expressive blue eyes, but she knows which one is strongest. The same one that's threatening to overwhelm her. She gives him a tremulous smile.

"Let's go home," he says.

She grips his hand tight and together, they walk out to the car.

The End.

* * *

**A/N:** Finally an actual shower scene! I reference them all the time but I think this is actually the first time I've ever tried to write one… hmm… How did I do? :S I was a bit underwhelmed with this chapter, but I think it's cause I was already distracted by The Epilogue... heh.

I know the first "I love you" should be this grand epic thing… but it just came out in this soft way… and I guess it's technically still unspoken, isn't it, like so much of their relationship… but he KNOWS now. Castle knows-knows. It is inscribed upon the sacred pages of The Book, and in Castle!World, that's just as valid/important/special as outloud; it's written for everyone to see.

Thank you everyone who supported me in my first Castle!Fic; those who followed, favourited, and especially those who took a few seconds to review

If any of you are upset that she still hasn't said it outloud, well… wait for The Epilogue ;)


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